The New Pet
by Blueroan
Summary: A new stray finds its way to the Cullens’ front door step. Blind, badly injured,and hunted by a vampire named Cane, Sarah Babineaux is the newest addition to Carlisle collection of broken souls. Disclaimer: Twilight belongs to Mrs Mayers not me!
1. Chapter 1

The New Pet

A new stray finds its way to the Cullens' front door step

Prologue:

It has long been said that strays make the best pets or at least the most interesting ones anyway. They show up at the park while you're having lunch and con you out of your pastrami on rye with a signal forlorn look. They follow you home from work on miserable afternoons and end up spending the night in your garage, your laundry room, your den, and eventually your bed. They greet you unexpectedly on your front porch when you go out to get the morning paper and, by the time you realize their in a motherly way, their having a litter on your favorite sweater.

Perhaps the most difficult strays to deal with though are the ones your kids bring home. They usually find the poor pathetic creatures half dead in a ditch by the side of the road. Now suddenly you're faced with the hard choice of letting nature take its course or mortgaging your house to pay the emergency vet. One look into your kids angelic faces and the decision is made for you but the difficulty doesn't end there. That's where it begins. 

"Daddy, can we keep it?"

"Pleeeeeease, Daddy?"

"We promise, we'll take good care of it."

What's a father to do? 


	2. Chapter 2

Note: I do not own Twilight!!!

Chapter 1

**Lost: One human girl, answers to the name of . . .**

Sarah lay as motionless as possible on the damp ground. It seemed that every part of her hurt. No one needed to tell her she was badly off, she could feel the sticky ooze of her own blood as it escaped the gaping wound in her left leg. A touch of her trembling hand revealed much, the broken end of her thighbone jutted from the wound at an odd angle.

"_La fierté va avant une chute_," she mumbled under her breath. Talking to herself was the only distraction she had to keep from screaming in agony.

The phrase, _Pride goes before a fall_, was her grandmother's favorite saying. In remembrance of her sainted grand-mère, she too recited it in French. Today, more than ever, it was certainly true. It had been prideful and foolish of her to think she could make her way to safety through miles of remote wilderness all on her own, but what other choice did she have.

She felt the icy wind stir the tangled strands of her hair. The temperature had been dropping steadily over the past several hours and she could smell the coming snowstorm. If the blood loss from her wounds didn't kill her, Mother Nature would.

Somewhere in the distance a wolf howled, sending a chill up Sarah's spine. Their awful song filled the woods on the night her two best friends went missing. Absently, she groped with one hand through the leaf litter until her fingers touched the leather-wrapped handle of her cane. The slender white rod wouldn't make much of a weapon but, at the moment, it was all she had.

Her thoughts turned introspective as she listened to the wilderness around her. Why had she let Vincent and Skeeter talk her into going camping in the first place? In the back of her mind, she could hear her Aunt Olivia's stern voice bawling her out for her stupidity. She deserved every fiery word.

You let them convince you because you trusted them, she mused when the imaginary tirade was over. Ever since their fateful first meeting, she trusted them completely and without question. They were her rescuers that day, charging in like a pair of Knights from a King Arthur story, and from that day forward, they were her staunchest defenders and her best friends. She thought of them as brothers and, like brothers, they promised to always 'look after' their little Sissy.

She had no idea where her friends were now. They never returned to the campsite with the firewood they set out to gather. The sounds of their tortured screams accompanied by the howling of the wolves still echoed through her mind and haunted her soul.

The last thing she was aware of before unconsciousness took her was the sound of something large and very fast moving through the trees toward her. She was glad, as she faded into oblivion, that she wouldn't have to suffer through the pain of her own death.

* * * *

The perfect order of life's daily routine at the Cullen home suddenly erupted into chaos as Emmett and Jasper burst through the front door carrying the limp body of a young woman. She moaned softly as Emmett shifted her in his arms. Blood leaked from her leg, dripped off the heel of her left boot, and puddled on the pristine hardwood floor.

From his private study, Carlisle heard the front door slam. The sudden pungent smell of human blood came wafting through the room and he swore under his breath. In a single fluid movement, he left his desk and came to the top of the stairs to investigate the source of the commotion. Even before he saw her, the smell of her blood and the faltering rhythm of her heart told him she was near the end. Though his face remained as placid as a mountain lake, his golden brown eyes betrayed his horror.

"We found her like this," Jasper insisted as he noticed Carlisle at the banister, "at the bottom of a ravine near the boundary."

No doubt, the boy could read the shock in his eyes. Jasper had the hardest time with their lifestyle and tended to overcompensate at times.

In a flash, he was beside them and with practiced efficiency he assessed the young woman's condition. There was no time to call for an ambulance, no time to have her taken to the hospital; he would have to do what he could for her right then and there. With a sigh, he disappeared to fetch the equipment he would need.

"The kitchen table," he ordered as he went.

Ideally, she should be in a state-of-the-art operating room with a team of surgeons, lots of high tech equipment, and a cornucopia of modern drugs. To describe what he was about to do as primitive or even barbaric was an understatement, and yet it was the best he had to offer her. Luckily for her, it wouldn't be the first time he had performed field surgery under less than optimal conditions.

When he returned to the kitchen, Edward was with them. Carlisle was glad to see him, as he would need his assistance if the girl were to live. He dove into his work like a man possessed; the poor wisp of a thing didn't have much time left.

"Carlisle," Edward's voice drew his momentary attention, and he looked up from his work. It was only then that he noticed the object his son held in his hands. Dread filled him even before Edward spoke the words, "she's blind."

Blind. The word echoed through the vast corridors of his mind like a thunderclap. As he continued his life saving work, he tried to wrap his thoughts around several burning questions; what was a blind girl doing alone in the wilderness, how had she gotten there in the first place, and how had she come so close to death.

The answers would have to wait, at least for now, he mused as he refocused himself on the task of saving her.

* * * *

She drifted in her dreamscape, finally settling into a long forgotten memory. She was making her way home from the Starlight Theater. Bobby Herbert had taken her to the movies, a new sci-fi film was playing and he knew she liked them. She was really enjoying herself and Bobby was doing a great job narrating the play-by-play of the film for her, until he tried to kiss her. That's when she dumped her soda in his lap and left.

Now she walked through the night alone, the sound of her cane tapping on the sidewalk her only company. The nice thing about living in a small town was that things rarely changed, so finding her way home without her eyes wasn't as difficult as it might have been. When she reached the corner of Magnolia Street and Main she knew, once she crossed the intersection, it was exactly two hundred and twenty-seven steps to the corner of Cypress Street. A right turn and another one hundred and forty-five steps would bring her to the wisteria-draped arch in front of her aunt's house. In the summer, the fragrance of the flowers made the house unmistakable.

She focused her attention on the intersection in front of her. By the sound of the traffic she could tell if the light was in her favor or not and if it was safe to cross. She was about to step off the curb when a familiar hand grasped her by the shoulder.

"Sissy, what are you doing out by yourself at this hour?" Skeeter asked. Notes of deep concern rippled through his voice.

"Yah, I thought you had a date with that Bobby guy from your geometry class." It was Vincent. He was beside her now, gripping her other shoulder.

"Were you two following me?"

"Of course," Skeeter answered plainly, and then he took her by the elbow and guided her across the street.

"The date ended early," she began. Vincent's question was a far safer topic than why her friends thought it necessary to follow her. "I didn't like the movie and I decided to walk home."

"Sure, that's why you dumped your Coke in the little pus-wad's lap." The anger in Vincent's voice simmered at a low boil.

Sarah stopped abruptly. "You were at the theater too?"

"Don't be angry Sissy," Skeeter soothed. "You know how we feel about you. Besides, Olive Oil would never forgive us if we let anything happen to you."

She hated it when they called her aunt Olivia by that name; she owed her spinster aunt a huge debt of gratitude for taking her in after her parents died. Her annoyance, as always, evaporated quickly and they continued to walk together. A faint breeze stirred the night air and she felt a strange shift in the dreamscape. The familiar night sounds of her little hometown were suddenly gone, replaced by those of the deep woods. Her cane no longer tapped its comforting rhythm on the cement sidewalk but instead thudded against broken branches and swished through dead leaves. A wave of fear made her shiver.

"Guys, where are we?"

"Shush," Skeeter whispered. "You're not safe Sissy. Vine and I did our best to protect you, but we failed. He's hunting you. That's why we took you camping, to get you as far away from him as possible."

"What are you talking about, who's hunting me?"

"I wish we could tell you, _ma chère_," Vincent's voice was sad, "but to do so would mean your life."

"Unlock your memories and you'll have the answer, Sissy." She felt Skeeter's cold fingers caress her cheek. "In the mean time, trust the people that are helping you. They'll be good to you, we promise."

"Yah, you know us," Vincent chimed in nervously, "nothing but the best for our little Sissy. We wouldn't let just anyone look after you."

"Wait," she shook her head, trying to make her mind understand what was happening. "_You're_ supposed to look after me, that's what you promised." Memories of the long ago night at Skeeter's fish camp, and their secret oath came rushing back to her. "What's going on, it sounds like . . . you're leaving."

"We're sorry, Sarah, we never meant for it to end this way," Skeeter's voice sounded distant now, "but don't worry, everything is going to work out just fine."

His last words to her echoed through her, even as she screamed after them.

* * * *

She woke from the nightmare still screaming. When she tried to get up a pair of strong hands restrained her, pushing her gently back against the bed.

"Easy, young lady, it's all right, you're safe now," a male voice murmured to her.

"Where am I?" she demanded, trying to sound brave in spite of her fear, "and . . . and who are you?"

"I'm Dr. Carlisle Cullen, you're in my home," he answered in a calm voice.

"Did I . . . walk here?" The last thing she remembered was the wolf howling and the scent of the approaching storm.

"No, my sons were out hiking. They found you and brought you to me." She felt his weight settle on the edge of the bed. "Now that you know my name, might I know yours?"

She relaxed a little and her mind and senses kicked in. For the first time, she actually _heard_ the voice of the man speaking to her. It was bright and musical, like cathedral bells on Easter morning. In a strange sort of way, it reminded her of Skeeter and Vincent.

"Sarah Babineaux," she managed.

"Forgive me if it seems like I'm prying, but how long have you been blind, Sarah?" his tone was gentle and soothing.

She didn't answer right away, thinking about that bleak day made the dark void in the center of her soul hurt. "Since I was eight, an accident."

She heard him sigh softly and felt tension gather in him as he prepared to ask his next question. "I don't mean to sound condescending but, given your condition, what were you doing alone in the middle of the wilderness?"

"I wasn't alone," she answered sadly. "My two best friends were with me." She paused briefly, "Did your sons find them too? Are they here?"

"I'm sorry, they only found you." Dr. Cullen's voice reflected his sorrow; the somber notes of the emotion danced through the brightness of the bells. "If you give me their names I can check with the authorities, and the local hospitals. I'm sure they must be looking for you."

Hope stirred within her and a faint smile curled her lips. "Vincent St Roman . . . but he goes by Vine, and Skeeter Landry. I've known them since high school; they're like brothers to me."

"Skeeter, that isn't his given name, is it?"

"No, his real name is Aloysius; he said he was named for his grandfather."

She gave him as much of a description of her friends as she could. Approximations of their height relative to her own was the best she could do. She knew the length of their hair, Skeeter kept his pulled back in a horsetail and Vincent's was always short and neat. She was able to tell him their hair color too but only because Skeeter had told her once. Vincent had a thin scar over his right eye; her sensitive fingers found it once on one of the rare occasions when he let her _look _at him. In the same manner, she had discovered Skeeter's unusual nose.

"I'm sorry, I wish I could give you better descriptions."

"Not at all, Sarah," he reassured her, "you've done very well. Rest now, I'm going to go and make a few phone calls."


	3. Chapter 3

Note: I do not own Twilight!!!

Chapter 2

**Found near Olympia National Park: One human girl. . .**

"Thank you for your trouble, you've been very kind," Carlisle mumbled politely before hanging up the phone.

After nearly three hours and over twenty phone calls, he had yet to locate Sarah's friends. He had contacted almost every hospital, mortuary, and police station in a three hundred and fifty mile radius. Three thoughts occurred to him as he dialed yet another number, and all of them were disturbing: First, the girl was simply lying and her two friends didn't really exist. Second, her so called friends were so despicable that they had abandoned a helpless blind girl in the middle of the wilderness. The third thought was far more grim . . . their fate had been far worse than hers.

He was about to hit the send button on his cell phone when the rest of his family materialized around his desk. When Sarah had survived the first twenty-four hours post surgery, Edward and the others thought it might be a good idea to do some investigating. To that end, they had spent the past several days combing the area around the ravine looking for clues. Even with their acute senses, it was a difficult task.

"Did you find anything?" he asked hopefully.

"We found her campsite." Edward's voice was glum. "There was no sign of her friends. Just for safety, we packed everything up and stashed it in the garage. We'll get rid of it once we've gone through it."

"I couldn't find any human scent in the area at all, except hers." Jasper was their most experienced tracker and he was rarely mistaken. "But we did run across the trail of a couple of outsiders. Their scent was all over the campsite, they must have been drawn there by hers."

"We followed their trail until it crossed the boundary," Emmett sighed. "If the pack found them . . ."

Carlisle nodded. "Bella, would you contact Nessie and see if the pack's been busy lately. And while you're at it, maybe the Quileute have seen Sarah's missing friends."

"Do these friends of hers have names?" Bella asked as she fished her phone from her pocket.

"Vincent St Roman and Aloysius 'Skeeter' Landry."

A strange, knowing expression played across Alice's face. "Did you say Aloysius?"

Before Carlisle could answer her, she disappeared and returned with a manila envelope. She held it out toward the doctor and waited for him to take it.

"It came a few months ago, in a package addressed to Jasper. When we opened it, there was a letter and this envelope addressed to you inside. The letter said I'd know when to give this to you."

Carlisle looked down at the mysterious envelope. His name appeared on the front in elegant script. When he turned it over, two blobs of vermillion wax sealed the flap, each blob bore the impression of serpent signets. He didn't recognize either of them. With deft fingers, he opened the seal and dumped out the contents of the envelope. A hand written letter, a legal document, a business card impressed with brail characters and a key tumbled onto the desk. He picked up the letter, written on the finest watermarked stationery, and began to read it:

Dear Dr. Cullen,

If you're reading this letter, then Vincent and I are no more. Our dying hope is that Sarah is safely in the care of you and your family. We respectfully and posthumously ask your forgiveness for this intrusion, but we could think of no one else to turn to.

As you must have already discovered, Sarah Babineaux, our dearest little Sissy, is blind. She's been under our protection since the day we found her half-drowned in the black waters of the Atchafalaya. Though she has no memory of the event, the accident that took her sight was not an accident at all. It was an act of foul butchery that took her entire family. Even for one of our kind, Cane, their killer, is an abomination. She alone escaped that horrid day, but not without paying a steep price. Cane now hunts her, seeking to claim the one victim to ever escape him. She is his Holy Grail, and he will not stop until her blood is his . . . or until his body is ripped apart and consumed by the flames.

I am not a man accustomed to groveling, Dr. Cullen, but in this instance, I will do so gladly and with shameless abandon. Sarah deserves better than she's gotten in life . . . truly, she deserves nothing less than the world. Yet Vincent and I aren't foolish men, we are painfully aware of her limitations and we realize the burden and the risk we are asking you and your family to take on. Not only will you have Cane to contend with, but I suspect you will face the wrath of the Volturi behind this as well. We are not among Aro's favorite people.

Though we hope that you will be receptive to Sarah's plight and take her under your protection, we would certainly understand it if you refused. To that end, Vincent and I have left Sarah with a legacy. You have the reputation of being an honest and honorable man, and so we trust your integrity. Enclosed in this envelope is a key to a Swiss bank vault as well as the pass code, written both alpha-numerically and in brail. Within the vault is a modest fortune in gold, silver, and diamonds. These, along with the deeds to several properties, are all we have to give her. We would appreciate it if you would help her with the transition and arrangements. A current copy of my will is also enclosed to help facilitate any legal matters.

Vincent and I wish to thank you for your patient indulgence, both in reading this letter and in considering our request. Please think carefully on this matter and do whatever you deem best. We trust your judgment.

Sincerely,

Aloysius Landry

&

Vincent St Roman

Carlisle rose from his chair far more slowly than he ordinarily would have. His mind was adrift on a sea of questions as he walked absently to his study's large window. Wordlessly, he stood before the clear pane and stared at the forest beyond it. He heard the muffled whispers from his family as they read the letter, but he was too absorbed in thought to care. Once again, he found himself thrust into the unwanted position of holding a fragile human life in the palm of his hand. As a doctor, he should be accustomed to making such decisions, but this was an entirely different matter. If he took Sarah under his protection, his whole family would be at risk. On the other hand, if he turned her away, Cane would surely find her and it would be as though he had killed the poor girl himself.


	4. Chapter 4

Note: I don't own Twilight!!!

Chapter 3

**No collar and no tags**

"Sarah." Bright cathedral bells rang through her tortured dreamscape, dispelling the frightful images.

She woke from her fitful sleep to find the doctor beside her bed, his hand resteing on her blanket-covered arm. The smell of food filled the room making her stomach growl. She couldn't help her smile.

"We've brought you some supper." The doctor's voice was soft.

"I do hope you like it," a new voice, a female voice, filled her ears. It was high and light and reminded her of _The Bird's Theme _from _Peter and the Wolf_.

"Sarah, this is my wife Esme." His voice held notes of a deep abiding love as he introduced her. "She and my son, Edward, are quite the dynamic duo in the kitchen."

Together they propped pillows behind her and helped her to sit. The weight of a heavy bed tray came to rest across her lap, pressing the tender area of her injured leg. It was all she could do to keep from screaming. The weight instantly vanished.

"That's not going to work," the doctor commented. "I'm afraid you're going to have to feed her, my dear."

The light twitter of Esme's laughter was pleasing to her, soothing away her anxiety and lifting her mood. She sensed something pleasantly unusual about this woman, something that evaded her mind's ability to grasp. The odd sensation in her brain was like that of an itch that was just out of reach.

"As if I mind," she finally heard the doctor's wife answer. Moments later, Sarah was being offered a fork full of the most incredible meatloaf she'd ever tasted. She was sure it would put even Emeril Lagasse to shame.

She ate her meal in silence, preferring instead to listen to the harmonic conversation between the doctor and his wife. It wasn't the subject that intrigued her, she didn't understand half of what they said, it was the melodic interplay that captured her. She found the way their voices intertwined to be more beautiful than any symphony she'd had the privileged to hear, and she'd heard plenty, her aunt saw to that.

Shortly after her aunt adopted her, she decided the best way to help her sightless niece adjust to her new life was to enhance Sarah's other senses. Olivia, being a third grade teacher, believed in field trips for the purpose of enrichment. To that end, there were year-round trips to the botanical gardens and at least one outing to Avery Island every spring when the azaleas were in bloom. Museums, especially where there were exhibits she could touch and interact with, were also high on her aunt's list. Music, perhaps more than anything else, became her aunt's favorite venue for exposing Sarah to the world. At least once a month, she packed her up and took her to any concert she could find.

"Sarah," the doctor's pensive voice disturbed her from her reminiscing. "I'm afraid I have some bad news."

"Not in the middle of supper, you'll upset her," Esme chided her husband.

"Whether it's during supper, or after supper, or tomorrow morning, or a week from now it's going to upset her , my dear, there's simply no way around it."

"Well . . . it's bad for her digestion and it will just have wait." The matronly way Esme was treating her touched her deeply

She remembered very little of her own mother, only a few still images forever frozen in her imagination. She remembered even less of her father and siblings. Her aunt, while patient and loving, never fully became a mother to her. This woman hardly knew her and was ready to treat her as if she were her own child.

She heard the doctor sigh with resignation.

* * * *

Dr. Cullen sat alone on his front porch, watching the moonlight dance over the blanket of fresh snow. Behind him, in the house, Edward played the piano. The composition was slow and somber, a perfect accompaniment to his current mood. Of course, things hadn't gone well with Sarah. She reacted to the news of her friends' deaths exactly as he had expected. In the end, she became so overwrought that he'd had to sedate her.

He'd severely edited the story of what happened to her friends, leaving out much of the details. For example, he didn't tell her what Vincent and Skeeter were, nor did he mention the letter. He didn't tell her that they had died at the hands of the Quileute shape-shifters; instead, he told her it was an animal attack. The less she knew the better. To his great surprise, she accepted his vague story with unusual easy. In his experience, humans were insatiably curious; Sarah on the other hand, just went along.

While going through the personal effects from the campsite, Jasper discovered a journal. That volume now lay open in Carlisle's lap. Written in Skeeter's familiar hand, it chronicled their life from the moment they first encountered Sarah.

It seemed that once they'd pulled her from the swamp, Skeeter followed her scent back to its source and found Cane's bloody massacre. The description written in the tattered pages was graphic to say the least. What took place in that isolated cabin threatened to turn even the doctor's seasoned stomach.

Once night fell, the pair took Sarah to the nearest hospital and dropped her off. The authorities took care of the rest.

"_It should have ended there," _Skeeter wrote, _"but neither Vine nor I could get her angelic face out of our minds. It was foolhardy really to think that we, being what we are, could have any chance at a life or even a friendship with Sarah, but we determined that we had to try." _

There was a brief dialogue, noted in the text, concerning the possibility of turning her, once she was of age, but the idea quickly faded. They wanted Sarah in their lives . . . as a human. To that end, they decided to do something very bold, even rash, by conventional standards. They were intent upon trying a radical lifestyle heard about only in whispered rumors. If they were successful, and managed to tame their urges, Sarah's blood would not be a temptation to them.

It hadn't worked out quite that neatly. It took them six years to adjust to their new diet. The first three, Skeeter noted, were the most difficult. At times, they considered giving up, but memories of Sarah spurred them to continue. The thing that finally set them on the straight and narrow for good was the return of Cane to North America after a long stint in Europe.

Cane, according to the journal, was extremely bad business. In the years that followed the massacre, he had been all but oblivious to Sarah's existence. Things changed in her senior year of high school, when she made national headlines for receiving a full-ride scholarship to a major art school. The little blind girl from Breaux Bridge earned national accolades as an accomplished sculptor and potter. The tragic story of her childhood and her scholastic boon got her featured on Oprah. That appearance brought her to the attention of Cane and her death warrant was signed and sealed.

Carlisle closed the journal and set it on the small table beside his chair. He had hoped any information gleaned from Skeeter's writing might help to make his decision easier. It gave him even more to think about instead. The graphic description of the tortured way her family had died still had him queasy as he got up. Perhaps hunting would clear his head and, with that in mind, he set off into the forest.


	5. Chapter 5

Note: I don't own Twilight!!!

Chapter 4

**Orphaned . . . Again**

"Come on, Sarah, Esme's waiting," Alice urged.

At the sound of Alice's voice, Carlisle peered over the top of his newspaper. He watched with satisfaction as Sarah made her way from the downstairs guest bedroom to the kitchen. Esme had every thing ready for an afternoon of cookie baking. She was doing quite well, hobbling along on the crutches with Alice at her elbow, steering her.

"_La patience est une vertu," _she mumbled.

"I didn't know you spoke French!" Delight spread across Alice's face.

"Only the few phrases my grand-mère taught me. That one she used to use all the time."

"It sounds pretty, what does it mean?" Bella asked.

She was about to answer when Edward interrupted her. "Please allow me, I so rarely get a chance to use all that French I've learned here in Forks." When she nodded, he continued. "Though the dialect is a bit unusual, I believe it means "_patience is a virtue_."

"Well spoken, Sarah," Carlisle encouraged and went back to pretending to read his paper. He was really watching Esme.

His wife took to Sarah from the first moment he introduced them. The bond was instant and left her doting over the girl like a brooding hen. It made him happy to watch them together. Her face literally glowed and he was sure she had not smiled this much in a very long time.

The girl was having a similar contagious effect on the rest of his household. It was like watching a group of small children with a new Christmas puppy. Alice shared Esme's instant attraction, becoming an overnight sister to her. If Sarah so much as looked like she might try to move, either Alice or Esme would be at her side in the blink of an eye. This didn't seem to upset Sarah in the least, her easy going nature took it all in stride.

Edward and Bella weren't quite so head over heels for her, but he sensed they liked her just the same. On the occasions when it was their turn to babysit, Edward entertained her by trying to teach her the piano. She had been hesitant at first, but he insisted that if Ray Charles and Stevie Wonder could play, so could she. They were practicing regular duets now. According to Bella, as soon as she was able, Sarah fully intended to return the favor by teaching both of them to throw pots.

Jasper, like Alice, showed open and unabashed affection for Sarah. His only reservation, which he'd shared with Carlisle privately, was the issue of Cane. Emmett, on the other hand, seemed caught between two worlds. On the one hand, he really liked Sarah and wanted to spend time with her, on the other hand, there was Rosalie. Rose made no secret of her dislike for the girl. After reading Skeeter's letter, she implored him to transfer Sarah to the hospital and ship her back to her home as soon as possible. With that reaction in mind, he didn't dare let her read the journal.

He smiled warmly as he watched Esme put a flour sifter in the girl's hands and show her how to use it. She giggled with each turn of the crank.

"This is fun.," Sarah managed in spite of her now bubbling laughter. "Aunt Olivia never lets me in the kitchen; she says it's too dangerous."

"Nonsense," His wife corrected. "It's no more dangerous than walking across a room. You need supervising, that's all." She paused a moment and then addressed him, "Isn't that right dear?"

"Of course. The more life skills you acquire, the better."

As for his part, he too found himself inexorably drawn to Sarah. As a physician, the care and welfare of his patients was extremely important to him. He even found over the years that there were certain patients to whom he became much attached, even fond of. His feelings for Sarah went far beyond fondness.

"I wish you'd tell my aunt that," Sarah sighed. "Sometimes I think she'd like to shut me away in a shoe box forever, just for safe keeping."

"Now Sarah, I'm sure you aunt loves you very much," Esme cooed. "She's doing her best."

"Yes Mrs. Esme."

Carlisle shook his head as he heard his wife clear her throat.

"Sorry," she apologized. "It's a habit."

"That's alright." Esme patted her shoulder. "Your manners are impeccable but I prefer not to be called Mrs. Esme."

"Yes Ma'am."

"Or Ma'am. Just Esme will do."

* * * *

Sarah sat at the dining room table; this was the first meal she'd taken outside her room. The doctor insisted that they weren't going out of their way for her, that it was normal for the Cullen family to have a sit-down supper on Sunday evenings. She had to admit it was nice. She had not had a family dinner since she left her aunt's house.

Once the meal was served, the conversation began. Sarah listened as she ate. Edward was telling his father about the classes he was going to take in the coming semester. She tuned her sensitive ears to his melodic voice and tried not to smile. It tinkled like the notes of his piano. Every word that fell from his lips was a concerto in miniature. In fact, she was sure if he sang and played at the same time his voice and the instrument would blend in seamless harmony.

Edward stopped in mid-sentence and for a brief second, the hair on the back of her neck stood on end. This usually indicated someone was staring at her, which tended to happen a lot. She quickly wiped her mouth with her napkin, hoping to remove the offending crumbs.

The awkward silence ended when Bella picked up the conversation. Her voice was remarkably similar to her husband's. Her voice wasn't the piano, it was the harpsichord. She enjoyed listening to them laugh together, the interplay of the notes in their voices was so beautiful it brought her close to tears.

A sudden pounding at the front door startled her and she nearly fell from her chair. Thankfully, no one at the table laughed. Dr. Cullen left the table to answer the door and she listened to the sound of his footfalls as he went. She heard the door lock click as he turned the knob and the swish of the sweeper as it brushed the hardwood floor.

"Charlie, how nice to see you," the doctor greeted and she could hear the warmth in his voice. "This is quite a pleasant surprise, won't you come in and join us, we were just having supper."

"Not tonight, Carlisle, but thank you." Charlie's voice was somber. "This is business. I'm told you have a young lady staying with you?"

"Yes, Miss Sarah Babineaux, why?"

She sensed a great deal of anxiety in the person at the door, it wafted off him like a bad odor. A sudden sensation of dread washed through her and she couldn't suppress her involuntary shudder.

"Could I speak to you outside for a moment?"

"Of course, Charlie."

She heard the door close and the muffled sound of two sets of footsteps on the porch. The mood inside the house went from pleasant to apprehensive just that fast. No one at the table spoke and it seemed as if the whole world was holding its breath.

It took an eternity before the door opened and the two men returned. One set of footfalls stopped short, in what she approximated would be the living room. The other set, the doctor's, continued until he was beside her. He wrapped his arm around her shoulders and helped her up.

"Come, Sarah," his voice was barely a whisper, the bells in it tolling low and sad.

"Doc, what's wrong?" She asked, by now the melon-sized knot of dread in her stomach was threatening to tear its way out of her.

He shushed her quiet as he led her into the living room and settled her on the sofa. She heard the rest of the family following close behind her.

"This is Police Chief Swan.," the doctor introduced. "He wants to talk to you."

She turned her focus to where she thought the Chief might be standing and waited.

"Well, uhm," he began and then paused. She heard the sound of his hand running through his hair and she could smell the anxiety on him as he groped for words. "I've never been good at this; it's the worst part of my job."

"Spit it out, Charlie," Bella demanded.

"Gees, Bella, this is hard, cut your old man some slack." She felt him turn his attention to her once more. "Miss, I'm sorry but there's no easy way to do this. I received a phone call earlier today from the Louisiana Bureau of Investigation. This morning the Breaux Bridge police found Mrs. Olivia Babineaux murdered in her home . . . ."

She didn't hear anything else the police chief had to say. The drone of his voice was barely audible over the sound of her own screams ringing in her ears. The black void of pain that lived in the center of her soul opened itself wide and, like the gaping maw of a great beast, it threatened to swallow her whole. Her chest grew tight and her breathing ragged as tears fell in torrents from her eyes.

The last thing Sarah remembered before she passed out was the comforting sound of Esme's voice as she wrapped her in a maternal embrace.


	6. Chapter 6

Disclaimer: I noted this earlier but I sopose I should repet it, I claim no ownership to Twilight or it's characters.

Chapter 5

Adoption

Carlisle stood at the foot of Sarah's bed watching the shallow rise and fall of her chest. It hadn't taken long for the sedative to kick in. Even her sleep wasn't peaceful, he noted as he watched a toured expression wrinkled her face and then pass. She moaned and her fist clenched at the sheets before relaxing again. At least she wasn't wailing in anguish any more he mused. The sight of her grief was nearly more than he could take. No single human should have to endure some much loss in such a short life. He checked her pulse one more time then brushed the stray strand of hair from her face before turning to leave. He'd given her enough medicine to ensure that she wouldn't wake until dawn.

When he returned to the dinning room, the remains of dinner were cleared away and his family waited for him. One by one he meet each questioning gaze.

"How is she?"

As he had expected Esme spoke first. He took his wife's hand in his and gave it a reassuring squeeze. "Resting comfortably," he answered.

"What are we going to do?" Edward asked in a dull tone.

Carlisle turned to his son. He sat next to Bella with his arm wrapped around her shoulders in comfort. She still seemed quite shaken by the events of the evening.

"I don't know." He answered honestly. "That's what we have to decide. It can't be put off any longer."

"The before you do." Jasper spoke solemnly. "You need to hear about Point St. Mary."

All eyes turned to Jasper. When he had their full attention, he took a deep breath and began.

"It was just after the war. The South was in shambles and chaos reigned, you could say it was Cane's perfect storm."

"Point St. Mary was a small community in the heartland of Acadiana. Made up mostly of subsistence farmers and fishermen, the population numbered around eighty-five people, give or take. They had no way of knowing. . ." He shook his head as his voice trailed off.

After a brief pause he continued. "October was unseasonably cool that year and the first frost came with the new moon, but something else came with it too . . .death. He took two that night; they were a newly wed couple on their honeymoon."

"Night after night the slaughter continued. It went on for an entire month. The bodies kept piling up like cord wood. They were all were found just as Skeeter described in his journal. Then, for whatever reason, it all ended abruptly in the middle of November. By that time, half the community had been wiped out."

"What happened to the survivors?" Bella asked in a whisper.

"They declared the town cursed." he sighed. "One by one the families that remained packed up their belongings and left. They burned their homes and farms behind them hoping to ride themselves, and the world, of the evil taint. Inside three months all that remained of the once thriving community were burned out houses; weed choked fields, and the cemetery."

The sound of Jasper's voice died away and the room went still. For a long time it remained that way as Carlisle carefully watched the play of emotions behind each set of eyes.

"I hunt to survive." Edward finally broke the silence. "I kill quickly and cleanly and I never take more than I need to sustain me." He scanned the faces around the table. "This Cane hunt's for the thrill of killing. He makes his victims suffer and he enjoys it. His very existence is an atrocity." Then he exchanged a brief look with Bella before standing to his feet. "I don't know about the rest of you, but Bella and I will protect Sarah."

Deep pride filled Carlisle to bursting as he watched his son take a stand.

Jasper got to his feet next. He gazed down at Alice and smiled before speaking. "Alice and I will protect Sarah."

The doctor felt something strike him hard just below his knee. When he turned to Esme, she was glaring at him. With a chuckle, he too stood to his feet. "Esme and I will protect Sarah."

All eyes were now on Emmet and Rosalie. The sudden attention was obviously making Emmet nervous. He looked to Rosalie who sat impassively beside him, and waited for some sign. If there was one, the doctor couldn't perceive it. Finally, with sad resignation etched on his face he started to his feet. Rosalie beat him to it.

"Emmet and I will protect Sarah."

"Then it's settled." Carlisle allowed his eyes to wander over their faces once more. He couldn't be prouder of his family. "But before we make this official, there must be an understanding. This is a long-term commitment; it goes beyond just the immediate threat of Cane. Once invoked it cannot be retracted. Sarah will be under our protection and she will remain so until she draws her last breath. Are we still in agreement?"

One by one, they nodded.

"Very well." He took a deep breath and intoned the formal words. "From this day hence let it be known that Sarah Babineaux is under the protection of the Cullen family. We take her into our keeping to be treated as one of our own. She is our beloved sister and our cherished child. So let it be for all time until _she _or _we_ are no more."

The sound of his words filled the entire house and reverberated off every surface. The echo of them continued to ring for several minuets after he finished speaking, then they finally died away. The voice of authority had spoken and the binding was complete.

"Now what?" Edward asked when the ringing stopped.

Carlisle looked at his son meaningfully. "Now. . .we deal with Cane."

Footnote: a painting I recalled from Art History inspired a portion of the above scene. The painting, Oath of the Horatii by Jacques-Louis David, depicts the three sons of Horatii pledging their allegiance and their lives to the glory of Rome.

Footnote #2: I grew up in south Louisiana and to the best of my knowledge there is no town or community called Point St Mary. It, like Cane ans Sarah are figments of my convoluted imagination. But just in case your out there Point St Mary, I hope you don't mind that I borrowed you. Breau Bridge on the other hand is a very nice town off interstate 10 between Baton Rouge and Lafayette.


	7. Chapter 7

Disclaimer: O.K. again with this, I don't own Twilight or its characters. Incidentally, that fact ought to be rather obvious.

So, I hope none of you thought things were over just because Sarah got adopted. Oh no, now the gumbo really gets cooking.

Chapter 6

**Homeward Bound**

Rain pelted the windshield of the car as it made its way along the highway. A week had passed since the night the Police Chief came calling. Most of that time was a blurry haze to her. She didn't remember very much nor did she care to remember. The only thing that stood out against the bleakness that threatened to swallow her was the outpouring of affection and support the Cullen family had shown her.

From the back seat of the doctor's car, she listened to the steady rhythm of the windshield wipers. They were on their way to the airport. A flight was booked for her, Dr. Cullen and Edward. They were accompanying her home to Louisiana. The rest of the family had arrived safely on a flight two days earlier. It was amazing to her the way Doc, Esme, and the rest of the family just stepped up and took over. Most of her aunt's arrangements were already in place. Doc was handling the LBI detectives, Esme and Alice dealt with the funeral home, and Jasper made all the travel arrangements.

Emmett, Rosalie, Edward, and Bella took turns looking after her. They coaxed her to eat when she had no appetite and refused her meals. They soothed her to sleep when the promise of impending nightmares had her too scared to close her eyes. They prodded her to get out of bed even when the weight of her own despair was so great all she really wanted to do was lie there and die. Like four gentle shepherds tending to a forsaken lamb, their presence was constant; at least one of them was always at her side. The only thing they hadn't managed to do was make her smile.

"Are you alright back there Sarah?" the bells in Doc's voice tolled with concern.

He must have noticed she was crying again. Her tears came in unpredictable spurts now, which was an improvement over the torrential downpours of earlier in the week. Though she nodded, she was very much afraid she would never be truly all right ever again. A hand grasped hers and somehow she knew it belonged to Edward.

"It's going to be OK," he offered softly. "It can't rain forever."

Somehow, she doubted that.

* * * *

Sarah's left hand was wrapped tightly around the crook of Carlisle's right elbow as he led her through the busy airport terminal. She hobbled on one crutch and leaned heavily into him with each step. Edward walked on the other side of her, managing their luggage and carrying Sarah's other crutch. Her eyes were dry for the moment but he knew the next squall could strike at any time. She was trying to be brave in spite of her grief, and he was extremely proud of her for the effort.

The line at the security check was longer than he had anticipated. Though they were in no danger of missing their flight, the lag time was feeding Sarah's anxiety. In the parking lot, the sounds of the air traffic over head made her jittery. Inside the terminal the noise and press of the crowd only made her jitters worse. She clung to his arm as if it were a life preserver.

When they reached the head of the line Carlisle took off his shoes, removed his belt, and emptied his pockets. He passed through the metal detector first and, once cleared by security, he helped Sarah through. The alarm went off and she froze like a doe caught in the glare of oncoming headlights.

Suddenly he wished for Esme. His wife had a way with the girl like no one else, only Alice came close. Sending the rest of them on ahead was a calculated part of his plan. During one of their late night strategy sessions, Jasper brought up the notion that Cane might have been baiting a trap by killing Sarah's aunt. If so, he would be expecting her to return home in the company of her two friends. Carlisle was intent on giving the monster exactly what he expected, Sarah returning home in the company of two male vampires. He only hoped that Cane had never met Skeeter and Vincent before.

The rest of the family had the task of scouting out the area and setting up a few surprises of their own. He was hopeful that Jasper might be able to find Cane before he and Edward arrived with Sarah. So far, this hadn't panned out.

"Does the girl understand English?" the security officer turned to him and asked. The man's heavy accent was of West Indian origins, most likely Trinidadian.

"Yes," he finally answered. Privately he wished to say more, but getting himself arrested for threatening a TSA agent wasn't a good idea.

The agent instructed Sarah to hold her hands out to the side and then he frisked her with the hand-held wand. The metal rods in her leg brace had set off the alarm. Edward passed through without incident.

They arrived at Gate 6 an hour before boarding time. As he settled Sarah into a chair, the alarm on his watch chimed.

"Edward, we passed a sandwich shop on the concourse, would you go pick up something for Sarah to eat? It's time for her medicine."

"Sure thing Dad," he answered. Over the years, the human act had become second nature to him. "Do you want anything?"

"No, I'm fine." With that, he watched his son disappear into the crowd.

The phone in his pocket began to vibrate. He fished it out to check the caller ID; Esme's name appeared on the tiny backlit screen.

"I need to take a call," he whispered to her as he patted her arm. "I won't go far."

By the time he returned, Edward was back and coaxing her to eat.

"Come on, Kitten," Edward cooed, "It's really good, I promise you'll like it."

Esme started calling her Kitten the morning after her adoption and the moniker soon caught on with the rest of the family. He even found himself using it from time to time. He sat down beside them and watched her. When he determined she'd eaten enough, he administered her medication.

"Who called?" Edward asked as he nudged another piece of sandwich under Sarah's groping fingers.

"Esme."

Her head jerked up at the name and he heard the sudden quickening of her heart. She turned in his direction. "Is she alright?"

"Of course, honey," he soothed. "She sends both of you her love."

He would have to find a private moment to share the details of the conversation with Edward. Though his son could read thoughts as easily as a book, he tried not to intrude on the minds or privacy of those in his family. This was too important a matter anyway; it always was when it involved Alice and her visions.

* * * *

They sat together on the plane, Carlisle on the aisle, Edward by the window and Sarah between them. The pilot ramped up the engines and Sarah nearly jumped from her seat. She had been trembling ever since the flight attendant seated them. Though he hated to keep drugging her, he had to admit the thought was tempting.

"Relax Sarah," he whispered to her. "Honestly, honey, there's nothing to be afraid of."

At that moment, the engines ramped again and he heard her heart slam into a gear he didn't know existed. If he didn't soon get her calmed down he feared she would have a heart attack. With a sigh, he stood and opened the overhead compartment to get his bag. He would have to be very discreet if he was going to sedate her without anyone noticing.

"Hey, Dad," Edward flashed him a knowing look. "While you're up there could you hand me my backpack. I have something in it for Sarah."

He had no idea what his son was up to, but he handed him the backpack anyway and retrieved his own bag as well. Curious, he watched Edward rummage through the pack. He pulled out a brand new MP3 player and a set of headphones.

"We all chipped in and bought you a present." Edward told her. "I'm going to put something on your ears now, Kitten, OK?"

She nodded, then sat patiently as Edward put the headphones on her.

"Now listen."

As he mashed the play button, Carlisle realized they were both holding their breath. At the sound of the music, first surprise and the pleasure lit her face and for the first time since that horrid night, the doctor watched a faint smile curl her lips.

"Vivaldi," she squeaked.

"Yes," Edward answered with a chuckle. He was obviously pleased the gift made her happy. "And Beethoven, and Mozart, and Chopin, and Wagner, and a bunch more. Everything from my collection we though you might like."

The doctor watched the miracle of the music in awe. She settled back into her seat and closed her eyes. Soon he noted her heart rate had dropped back into a normal rhythm, her trembling ceased, and her breathing became easy and shallow. By the time the plane reached cruising altitude, Sarah was snuggled up against Carlisle's shoulder fast asleep.

"Edward, I owe you one," he whispered so as not to wake her.

"I wish I could say that I'll add it to your tab, but actually you owe this one to Bella, it was her idea." Edward paused and when he spoke, again his tone was low and serious. "What was Alice's vision about?"

"We were right," He, sighed, "Cane is watching the Lafayette airport. It's a good thing we had the others fly into New Orleans and drive to Breaux Bridge. Otherwise we might have tipped our hand."

"Then he's waiting for us?"

Carlisle nodded. "But he won't try anything in the terminal, it's too public. Emmett and Jasper have the airport covered anyway, just in case."

"Sounds like fun," Edward grinned before settling back, closing his eyes, and pretending to yawn. "I can't wait."


	8. Chapter 8

Disclaimer: Yah, guess who doesn't own it . . . me!

I didn't think I'd get to post again before New Year's but I found a little time to work. Happy Holidays!

Warning: This chapter gets a little intense, but no worse than the scene with James and Bella.

Chapter 7

**The Devil and Sarah Babineaux**

It was past 8 p.m. when their flight finally arrived in Lafayette. They had to change planes twice, once in Dallas and again in New Orleans. Sarah didn't really like air travel but she preferred the large 747s to the smaller twin-prop commuter plane that made the short hop to Lafayette from the Big Easy. By the time she got off the small plane, she was ready to kiss the tarmac.

The terminal was busy for a Thursday evening. She hobbled along on her crutches with Doc at her elbow guiding her. As she moved through the crowd, she listened to the cavalcade of feet. A woman in high heels tromped past her briskly, the rhythms of her steps sounded like those of a Tennessee walking horse doing the fast trot over cobblestones. Three sets of sneakers whizzed past making squeaking noises on the linoleum and stirring a breeze as they went by. Several pairs of men's dress shoes marched past in a solemn procession. The men wearing them smelled of expensive cologne and spoke lawyer talk in glum voices. This was her favorite form of people watching and no one ever noticed she was doing it. That was the thing about being blind, except for the initial gawking, the sighted world treated you as if you didn't exist . . . which was better, of course, than being treated like a freak.

"Edward, why don't you and Sarah get our luggage while I get the rental?" The doctor suggested. "I'll meet you in baggage claim."

Edward took over leading her as they started for baggage claim. They hadn't gone more than thirty steps when the odd sensation hit. It started with the hair on the back of her neck standing on end. At first, she dismissed it as someone staring at her, until the fine hairs over the rest of her body stood on end, too. Then she felt an uncomfortable tingling sensation at the base of her skull accompanied by the worst nausea she'd ever had and, for the first time since losing her sight, she was dizzy.

She stopped dead in her tracks to wait for the spell to pass.

"Kitten, you don't look good," Edward told her, the symphony of his voice held notes of worry. He steered her out of the path of foot traffic so she could recover. "Come on, you can't get airsick on us now, we're off the plane."

That must be it she thought to herself, airsickness. She took several deep breaths and tried to push the odd feeling aside. "I think I'm all right now, lets go."

"If you say so," he commented dryly as they began walking again, "but I won't feel any better until Carlisle looks at you. I haven't seen anyone turn that green since the last time Bella saw her own blood."

There were six carousels in the tiny airport's baggage claim area. Their things were due to come out on carousel number two. The area was crowded as passengers milled around waiting for their belongings. Edward guided her to an out of the way corner.

"Wait here while I get our bags."

"Why can't I stay with you?" She desperately tried to keep the panic out of her voice, but she knew she failed miserably.

"Too many people," he told her. "You could get pushed around and end up hurting your leg again."

Though she didn't like it, she had to admit he was right. "You won't be far, will you?"

"Not more than ten or fifteen paces away." He patted her shoulder. "And I won't be long either. Call me if you need me."

She listened to his receding footfalls, counting each one. There were thirteen steps in all before he stopped. To keep her anxious mind busy she focused her ears on the crowd. Over the years, she trained herself to pick apart the sounds around her. When her aunt took her to concerts, she practiced focusing her mind and ears until she could selectively hear only the string section, or only the clarinets or just the trumpets. Over time, she became so acute that she could focus on a single violinist or flute player and follow that individual's performance all night.

From the crowd, she singled out the voice of a mother assuring her young child they would be home soon, a husband telling his wife he arrived safely and giving her his love, a business man greeting a client and welcoming him to the city. She immersed herself completely in the complex tapestry of sound and reveled in the wonder of its threads. Had her focus been immediate, she would have noticed the footsteps coming up behind her.

"Hey there, darling," a voice from behind her spoke. "Do you need some help?"

The voice was low and ominous and filled with the musical sound of French horns. She shuddered as if someone dropped ice down her shirt.

"No, but thanks," she managed. The odd sensation was back with a vengeance and it was all she could do to keep from throwing up. "My party is just over there."

"Sure, I was just trying to help," he answered.

Sarah waited for him to leave but he didn't, instead he just kept standing there. She could feel the weight of his gaze drilling into the back of her head. Every fine hair on her body was now on end and her skin tingled as if an electric current was being passed through it.

"Say, don't I know you?" he finally asked.

"I don't think so." Sarah never forgot a voice, especially not one as distinctive as his. Where was Edward, she wondered, this person was really starting to creep her out. She wished he and Doc would hurry up.

"Well I'm sure I do," he insisted. "Yah, I though I recognized you when I walked up, you're . . . you're Jack and Carmelita's little girl."

It had been years since she had last heard anyone speak her parents' first names aloud. The ghostly sound sent shivers up her spine.

"Yes, I'm sure of it now, you're Sarah." Then his voice dropped into a deeper octave. "It's been a long time, _ma Chère_; I thought I'd never see you again."

"Sir, I'm sure I don't know you," she tried to inject a forceful edge into her voice even though she was scared beyond words. "You've obviously mistaken me for someone else."

"I don't make mistakes, Sarah." She heard him chuckle under his breath. "You may not remember me, but you _do_ know me."

"Who are you then," her courage was really wearing thin now and she wished Doc and Edward would hurry. "And what do you want?"

She felt him lean in close until she could feel his icy breath on the skin of her neck, just below her earlobe. "I'm the devil, Sarah," he whispered. "I'm the one who slaughtered your family . . . and killed your aunt. I've been waiting for you."

She would have shrieked except that he had her mouth clamped shut with one of his big hard hands even as he pushed something sharp into her side with the other.

"None of that now," he whispered. "If you value the lives of your two pathetic friends you'll come quietly."

For Edward and Doc's sake, she didn't struggle as he relieved her of her crutches and then ushered her toward the terminal doors. They had all been so kind to her over the past few weeks, she couldn't possibly repay the debt she owed them even if she lived a thousand lifetimes. The least she could do was not get them all killed by the psycho who had her at knife point.

* * * *

Carlisle spotted Edward hauling the last of their bags from the carousel. His keen eyes scanned the crowed looking for Sarah. When he didn't immediately find her, a knot of dread settled into his stomach. His nose picked up the scent of an unknown vampire, mixed with Sarah's scent, and the knot grew exponentially.

"Edward!" he called to him. "Where's Sarah?"

The boy's eyes darted to the place where he'd left her. Carlisle followed his gaze. The spot was empty except for a pair of crutches propped neatly in the corner. They left their things and raced for the parking lot.

Esme would never forgive him if he let anything happen to her little Kitten.

* * * *

They were outside now, making their way through the parking lot. Her leg was on fire with pain, she wasn't supposed to put her full weight on it for several more weeks yet. When she slowed because of the pain, he began dragging her.

"_Never let yourself be taken to a secondary crime scene."_ The words of the campus security officer rang in her head. Determination welled up within her. If she was truly about to die, then she was going put up a fight and die well. She knew somehow she had to stay at the airport where the authorities would find her. The thought of being dumped in the bayou for gator chow didn't appeal to her. There was also the possibility that the security cameras would get pictures of _The Devil_.

"Where are you taking me?" Maybe getting him to talk would slow him down she thought.

"To a nice private place where we won't be disturbed." There was pleasure in his ominous voice. "But don't worry, it's a place you're very familiar with. I thought you might like that."

She plucked up all the courage she could muster and challenged him. "No! If you're going to kill me, you freak, then go ahead. Do it now, right here, and be done with it. I'm not going another step."

She dug her heels into the hard surface of the parking lot and collapsed to the ground in an effort to become a dead weight. It didn't work; he kept on dragging her effortlessly through the lot as if she were a child's doll. He was as strong as Skeeter and Vincent. She heard her thighbone pop and the pain suddenly erupted like a volcano.

"We can't dance here, _m__a chère_, it's far too public for what I have in mind." He hauled her to her feet and held her against the side of a car. She could hear him turning keys in the door lock. "Though I'm very pleased to see you're so eager."

He opened the car door and it squealed on its rusty hinges in protest. Then he pressed himself against her back and whispered in her ear. "I can't wait to hear you scream, Sarah. I wonder if you'll sound like your mother, you certainly look like her." Again, she felt his icy breath on her neck and this time his cold wet tongue followed it.

"Let her go. Now!" Bright cathedral bells filled the air and made her heart leap for joy. Then her spirits plummeted, what if he killed Doc, too. She hoped the police would soon arrive.

"Where's your friend?" her captor asked. She felt the knife blade bite into her side just a little.

"Behind you," Edward answered. "Now let her go and I'll consider ending your iniquitous existence quickly."

"Two on one, I like those odds." He bent forward and kissed the spot on her neck where he had just licked. "Be a dear, Sarah, and wait here for me until I'm done with your friends."

"You might want to recalculate those odds." The trumpet blast of Jasper's voice startled her. She didn't know where he'd come from but she couldn't be more happy to hear him.

"Yah, four on one could be a bad thing . . . for you." The oboe filled her ears, it was Emmett. He must have come with Jasper.

"Well, my dear it seems your dance card is rather full this evening," he sighed. "I suppose we'll have to do this another time."

His weight immediately vanished and, as it was the only thing holding her upright, she crumpled to the ground. Rolling onto her side, she grabbed her blazing leg. Strange noises accosted her hearing. It was obviously a fight, but it sounded more like a thirty car pile-up on the interstate, that or a train derailing. It lasted several minutes before everything went quiet again.

"Sarah," Doc was kneeling beside her now, "are you alright honey, did he hurt you?"

"My leg," she whimpered.

She felt his hands working quickly to remove the brace so he could get a better look.

"Did they get him, are the police coming?"

"No, kitten, he got away. Edward and the others have gone after him." She heard him moan and then swear under his breath. "I need to get you to the hotel so I can reset this."

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	9. Chapter 9

Note: I do not own Twilight!!!

Chapter 8

**Glass Houses**

Carlisle withdrew the needle carefully from Sarah's arm. A closer examination of her leg put to rest his earlier fears that Cane had broken it again when he and Sarah struggled. Several muscles were severely torn and this only compounded the original injury, but the bone, thankfully, held.

"That should make you more comfortable." He told her as he put a band-aid over the injection site.

"It won't make me sick, will it?"

"It shouldn't." He found out the hard way after her surgery that morphine made her violently ill. Because of her reaction, she was wary of all pain medication. "It might however, make you sleepy."

"Are you sure he didn't break it?" Esme sat behind her cradling the girl's head and shoulders in her lap. If he lived to see the end of time, he would never forget that look of horror on her beautiful face when she saw him carrying Sarah.

"I'm very sure." he comforted his wife, "It's just some soft tissue damage, the bone is fine."

"He knew my name." She mumbled. "He knew my parents names."

The events of the evening had her overwrought, and rightly so. He watched Esme stroke Sarah's forehead as if she were a small child.

"Anyone could learn that information Kitten." Esme soothed. "If only they know where to look."

"He said he killed them and my aunt too." She was becoming restless now, but Esme soothed her until she quieted again. "He said he was the devil."

Carlisle took her hand in his, "He's not the devil honey, his name is Cane."

At that moment, the door burst open and the rest of his family filed into the tiny hotel room. The suddenness of their arrival sent Sarah into a wild panic. It was all Esme could do to hold her still and keep in bed with out hurting her. Carlisle glared at them until each face wore a look of remorse.

"How about a less dramatic entrance next time." The doctor snapped. "You nearly scared poor Sarah to death."

"We're sorry." Edward apologized for the group.

"Did you catch him?" Esme asked hopefully.

"No," Jasper answered. "He escaped into the Atchafalaya. That area covers over 500 thousand acres of nothing but swamp, marsh, lakes, and bayous. With all that water, it makes tracking him almost impossible."

"You should call the cops." Sarah muttered. "They have dogs, boats and men who know the swamp. They track fugitive criminals in there all the time."

Carlisle's gaze shifted from face to face as the room went quiet. This wasn't the first time over the past several hours that she'd requested the involvement of the authorities. She was, in fact, well with in her rights to request such a thing. After all a heinous crime had been committed against her and her family. She deserved justice, to be sure, but in this case, human justice was totally out of the question.

"Sarah, I'm sorry." He did his best to sound gentle yet firm. "I've told you already . . .no police."

He watched the play of confused emotions across her young face and inwardly cursed himself for not being able to explain thing to her. The less she knew of the truth, the better for her. Silently he prayed that her accepting nature would soon kick in and the discussion would drop. This was not to be the case.

"Why?" she demanded.

Why? The question reverberated through the corridors of Carlisle's mind like a rifle shot. He paused as he tried to gather his thoughts and formulate an adequate answer, one that didn't include the truth of what he, his family, her two lost friends, and Cane actually were.

"Well honey, because. . .uhm," he found himself stumbling through his thoughts, which was something he really did. "You see Sarah. . .we, well. . .that is Cane and my family and I. . .well, we're uhm. . .we're uhm. . ."

"Different." She whispered.

He was astonished as well as relieved. "You've noticed then?"

"I'm blind Dr. Cullen, not stupid." Her voice was still soft and it held a slight edge of sadness. "You're all like Skeeter and Vincent; your skin is ice cold and hard as marble, the feel of your breath on my skin is like an arctic blast, your voices ring like music in my ears, each one of you has the strength of a whole football team, and, forgive me please as I mean no offence, but you smell different too . . . Cane is like you, isn't he?"

Carlisle was stunned beyond words. How had he missed it? She never questioned them, didn't react adversely to their touch or their presence. She was completely accepting of their unusual nature. The question now was how much did she really know and how had she managed to hide her knowledge from Edward. He would have to proceed cautiously.

"Did Vincent and Skeeter ever explain these differences to you?"

"No." she answered. He watched a wave of grief twist her expression briefly. "I never ask them about it."

"Excuse me, my dear," The doctor tried not to laugh. "But I find that rather hard to believe."

"She's telling the truth Carlisle." Edward supplied in her defiance.

He sighed. If it were possible for him to get a headache, this situation would certainly have given him one. "Very well, but might I inquire as to why you never asked?"

It simply amazed him that somehow Sarah managed to suspend the powerful force of human curiosity. There was along pause and Carlisle watched a parade of emotions travel across her face as Sarah gathered her thoughts.

"Edward?" She finally broke her silence.

"I'm here."

"Would you mind translating some French for me?"

"Of course." Edward answered. "It would be my pleasure."

"I'll probably get the pronunciation all wrong, but here it goes." She closed her sightless eyes and took a deep breath before plunging in. _"Ceux dans les maisons en verre ne devraient pas jeter des pierres."_

Edward smiled. "That's a long one Kitten, very nice."

"What does it mean?" Bella insisted.

Edward sighed, "It translates to; _those in glass houses should not throw stones."_

Silence reigned again. Carlisle couldn't count the number of years since he'd last heard that phrase used commonly. It was derived from a passage out of one of the four gospels; _Let he among you who has not sinned cast the first stone_. The doctor was more intrigued by her now, than ever.

"I live in a glass house Doc," She finally began. "I have differences of my own, so what right do I have to throw stones at someone else because their different. I owe a great deal to Vincent and Skeeter; they were among the very few people in my life to treat me as if I was normal. In their eyes, I was just Sarah, their friend not Sarah the blind girl or Sarah the freak. How could I not offer them the same level of acceptance in return? They were my brothers, my protectors, and my dearest friends, no matter what."

How was it that this frail human girl made words escape his grasp like smoke? She spoke with power and an ancient wisdom seldom seen anymore. It would be some time before Sarah's words stopped vibrating inside his head.

"You're wise beyond your years Sarah Babineaux." Carlisle finally managed. "I would humbly ask you to extend the same courtesy to us that you gave to your friends?"

He watched eternal innocence light her face as she smiled, "I thought you knew . . . That gift has already been given to you."

* * * *

Carlisle listened to the sound of Esme's soft humming. Sarah lay cradled in her lap sleeping. It took longer than usual for her to finally settle down and drift off and even now, her sleep was fitful. In spite of this, the family council couldn't wait.

Up until now, he had assumed Sarah simply had a more easygoing nature than most humans did. This was, in his mind, why she never seemed to notice there physical differences. The revelation that she did indeed notice but consciously chose to ignore it for the sake of friendship changed things slightly.

"How much does she really know Edward?" He asked in a low voice.

"The physical differences she noted earlier of course." His son began. "She slightly confused by why we seem to eat meals, but her friends never did."

"Does she suspect what we are?" Rose asked.

"No. Though she does suspect we're somehow not quite human." Edward answered.

"Is she afraid of us?" Esme stopped humming long enough to ask.

"No. She feels nothing but deep loyalty and affection for all of us. At the airport, she was willing to allow Cane to drag her away and kill her if doing so would have some how protected us." he paused briefly then added, "She's absolutely terrified of Cane, and I can't say I blame her especially after that comment he made about her mother."

Carlisle and Edward were stalking their way into position when Cane made that comment. If he could have gotten his hands on Cane at that moment, he would have ripped his head off his shoulders without a second thought.

"So, what are we going to do?" Alice asked. "Cane's still out there and he's not going to stop, not until he has Sarah."

Carlisle turned to Alice. "Did you have another vision?"

Alice didn't answer him; instead, she took a sketchbook from her backpack. She handed it out to him open. The drawing he saw made him sick, he closed the book and handed it back to her.

"Sarah is a member of our family now," Carlisle finally answered. "We made a pledge of protection, and we're going to keep it." Then he turned to Edward. "It's time to get off the defensive and take the battle to our enemy."

"Turn the hunter into the hunted, I like it." A wicked smile turned up the corners of Edward's mouth. "Let's see how he feels about a taste of his own medicine."

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	10. Chapter 10

Disclaimer: Yeah, we know, Twilight isn't mine.

Chapter 9

**Want a pet? Get a dog.**

"Wake up, Kitten," the light sound of _The Bird's Theme _roused her from her sleep.

Slowly she became aware of her surroundings; the feel of the scratchy hotel sheet against her exposed skin, the sound of the room's heating unit rumbling to life. In the room next door, she could hear the cleaning crew vacuuming. Esme's hand was resting lightly on her shoulder.

Another day had come, and it was time for her to face it. Swinging her feet off the edge of the bed, she sat up slowly. She winced as pain coursed through her leg. It wasn't as bad as the night before, but it was bad enough.

"I'll have a look at your leg just as soon as I'm off the phone." Doc assured her before going back to his conversation. "Yes, detective, I understand that . . . ."

Esme didn't wait for her husband's examination, instead she helped Sarah out of bed and into their room's postage stamp sized bathroom. "A nice hot shower will make you feel much better." She cooed as she helped her undress and get into the shower stall.

The warm water was like heaven itself, easing away her tension as it washed away the travel grime. She could hear Esme humming softly, by the sound of it she could tell the woman was still in the bathroom waiting for her to finish.

"Where is everyone?" Sarah asked.

"Out looking for Cane," ,she answered pleasantly. "You, Carlisle, and I have a breakfast meeting with Detective Richardson this morning."

This took her by surprise. "I thought Doc said no cops."

"This is to do with your aunt's death, Kitten," she replied sadly. "It's unavoidable. The detective has been badgering Carlisle to speak with you for some time now. I think he's hoping you might be able to give him some leads."

"I suppose mentioning Cane is out of the question." She managed to find the faucet by feel and shut off the water.

"It wouldn't be wise," Esme informed her as she helped her from the shower stall. "Cane is far too dangerous, even for the police."

* * * *

They arrived at the restaurant nearly half an hour early for their meeting. Doc opened the car door, first for Esme and then for her. He helped her from the back seat, taking on most of her weight as he did. Esme insisted she wear something nice; she would have preferred jeans and a sweat-shirt over the dress she was wearing. She felt over dressed, as if she was going to morning mass rather than to breakfast with a police officer.

The parking lot was full and in spite of the doctor's best effort to find a close parking space, they ended up walking. A cold wind stirred the air, whipping under her coat and dress, making her shiver. She wasn't sure what chilled her blood more, the early spring cold snap or the prospect of facing the detective's questions. She swallowed hard and tried to put on her game face.

The thought of her aunt's death still haunted her and she couldn't believe the woman who took care of her for the past fifteen years was gone. Doc told her that the strange feelings of disbelief interspersed with intense pain was a normal part of grieving. It was a process and it had stages, he told her, and right now, she was still in shock.

She pushed the painful thought of her aunt from her mind and tried to focuses on the moment. That's when it hit, slamming into her with the force of a tidal wave. Ever hair on her body was on end, her stomach rolled, and electricity danced over her skin. She began trembling uncontrollably as she stopped dead still.

"Sarah," the bells in Doc's voice tolled softly in her ear. "Is it your leg, honey?"

She shook her head. "He's here."

"What are you talking about, Kitten," Esme twittered. "Who's here?"

One word fell from her mouth, "Cane."

"Come on," Doc whispered. She could hear both annoyance and concern in his voice. "Let's get inside."

Even as they walked she heard him flip open his cell phone and dial a number. He spoke so quickly the words blurred together. She couldn't understand most of what he said but the worry in his voice was evident. In fact, if it weren't for the occasional mention of her name, she would have sworn he was speaking a language other than English. As they reached the restaurant door, she heard him hang up.

The waitress seated them in a quiet corner booth, leaving them with menus and a promise to return and take their orders. Sarah sat sandwiched between Doc and Esme. Suddenly, she was overcome, as a brief flash of a long forgotten memory flared before her mind's eye. She was seated on the sofa in her pink pajamas and snuggled between her parents as her dad read her a bedtime story. She could hear the tinkling sound of her own giggles as he read _Clovis Crawfish_ to her. To her delight, he always gave each character its own unique voice.

In that brief moment of childhood bliss, all was right with the world. Wrapped in the protective cocoon of her parents' arms she felt loved, safe, and whole. She hadn't felt that way in a very long time, but seated as she was now, between Doc and Esme, she felt that same sense of protective love that she had know so long ago. It dawned on her, in that moment, that she wasn't alone anymore and that she would never be alone ever again. A tear traced its way down her cheek, dripped off her chin, and fell into her lap.

Esme's gentle hand found hers, clasping it reassuringly. "It's going to be alright, Kitten, you can do this," she murmured.

She had her composure back by the time the waitress returned to take their order. In the car, she had absently mentioned pancakes and that's what Doc ordered for her, along with bacon, scrambled eggs, and, to her surprise, grits. Most people from north of the Mason-Dixon line didn't know much about the wonders of hot buttered grits and preferred hash browns instead. She smiled pleasantly as she listened to Doc order for himself and his wife.

They were waiting for their order when the disturbing sensation hit again. It was much worse this time, and she was sure that if it weren't for the fact she was already seated, she would have fallen to the ground.

"Good Morning," the sound of ominous French horns accosted her ears. "Now isn't this just absolutely charming, Mama, Papa, and little Sarah having a family breakfast together. How ya'll good folks doing on this fine morning."

She heard the sound of a chair being drawn to the table and then she heard it moan under his weight as Cane sat down. Sarah's fists clenched into two tight balls as she tried to control the rage that had her almost shaking.

"Relax, Sarah," the doctor soothed. "He can't do anything to hurt you here."

"This is true, _ma chère_, once again I find you in a place far too public for our little dance." There was a touch of humor in his voice. "Besides I haven't come to fight, I've come to parley."

"What do you want Cane?" the doctor asked calmly.

"Now see, that's why the world is in the shape it's in today. No one has a lick of manners these days," Cane protested. "Last night I mistook you and that boy for Skeeter and Vincent . . . that is until the other two showed up. Skeeter might be smart enough to lead Vine around by the nose like a bull but he isn't smart enough to lead a whole group. So, who are you people?"

"I'm Dr. Cullen and this is my wife." he answered casually. "You met my three sons last night."

There was a pause before Cane spoke again. "Well bless my cold dead heart; I thought ya'll were just some sort of urban legend. I never thought the rumors were true, that there were actually those among us who chose to live . . . _that way_."

Sarah felt anger radiate in waves off Doc like heat off asphalt in July. She didn't understand the obvious insult Cane veiled in his comment, but Doc and Esme's reaction to it was enough to set her on edge.

"I'll only ask this once more, what do you want?"

Before he could answer, the waitress arrived with their orders. She listened as the woman set the plates in front of them. She asked Cane if he wanted to place an order and, though he answered her, _no_, in a polite tone, Sarah sensed an underlying current of something very disturbing in his voice. It sounded almost like the low threatening growl of a coyote on the scent of an unsuspecting hare and it sent shivers up her spine. The waitress seemed oblivious to it as she bid them to enjoy their meal and left.

"You were saying," Doc insisted.

"It's quite simple really, I want little Sarah here. We have some unfinished business." The sound of his voice was as uncomfortable to her as a stare. "Give her to me and I promise the rest of you can go in peace."

"I'm afraid that isn't an option," Doc answered. In spite of his effort to sound utterly relaxed, Sarah felt the tension in him. "Sarah is under the protection of this family. She is a daughter to my wife and me and a sister to my children. We will defend her vigorously and to the death if need be."

Cane laughed and the wicked sound of it made Sarah tremble again. "I'm so sorry to hear that, truly I am. You know, Doctor, if ya'll wanted a pet so bad, you should have gotten a dog. It would have cost you a lot less trouble." He paused and took a deep breath. "Well, my spider senses are tingling, which means the rest of your lovely family must be close at hand, so I'll bid you goodbye. Oh, and Sarah, love, you tell Mama and Papa here you want to come out and play sometime . . . I promise it'll be fun."

The chair protested again as he got up. "Oh, and one more thing," she heard a loud thud as something heavy dropped onto the table. "Don't bother about waiting for Detective Richardson, he and I had a little breakfast meeting of our own earlier and I don't think he'll be joining you. Ya'll have a good day now."

_**Footnote: **__Clovis Crawfish _is the main character in a series of children's books by the same name written by Louisiana author Mary Alice Fontenot and published by Pelican Publishing Company, Incorporated.

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	11. Chapter 11

Note: No, I don't own Twilight or any of its characters.

Chapter 10

**Beware the Dog Catcher **

They left Des Armand and Sons Funeral Home at just a little past noon. In spite of being a physician, in spite of being what he was, in spite of his centuries of existence, death was still something he wasn't wholly comfortable with. He dealt with it almost daily at the hospital, but those encounters could be compartmentalized. It was simply a part of his job and, if he were having a fortuitous day, the deceased wouldn't be someone he was well acquainted with.

His morbid musings suddenly made him aware of the object in his coat pocket and his thoughts changed tack abruptly. He would have to dispose of the detectives badge as well as the coat as soon as it was convenient. It was covered in the officer's dried blood and by now so was the inside of his coat pocket. The badge was a testimony to Cane's evil and to the violent way in which poor Detective Richardson had died. For once, he was glad Sarah was blind, glad she couldn't see the gruesome object as Cane casually deposited it on their table.

A chilling thought ghosted thought the vastness of his mind, even as the vivid image of another police officer's badge filled his mind's eye. Since Bella had joined the family, Charlie in particular, and police officers in general, had a special place in Carlisle's heart. He dreaded the day when Bella would lose her natural father and he could only hope it would occur at a venerable age and of natural causes.

Sarah stumbled slightly and he steadied her. One look at her face and he could tell she was both emotionally and physical drained. She and Esme had spent the last couple of hours with the funeral director finalizing her aunt's arrangements. It nearly broke his lifeless heart to watch her as she clung to Esme's elbow and wandered through a sea of caskets trying to select one. It was all he could do to maintain his control and keep from throttling the funeral director. In the end, he had to excuse himself and step outside for some air and a chance to reclaim his composure.

Sarah stumbled again and this time Carlisle focused more of his attention on her. She was tired, obviously, but she was also in pain as evidenced by the grimace she wore etched on her angelic face. A casual deep breath wafted her scent into his nose, and he could tell by the subtle change in her body odor that her blood sugar was seriously low. She needed to eat, she needed her medicine, and she needed a nap in that exact order.

He opened the car door for his wife before settling Sarah in the back seat. She seemed distant, lost in a world of her own grief. He wondered what tortured thoughts must have been dancing through her mind and he wished Edward were there to tell him. Her oppressive silence was killing him and he longed for the joyous sound of her voice and the bubble of her innocent laughter.

They were in line at the drive-through when she finally chose to break her silence. What she said made Carlisle fervently wish she'd remained quiet.

"I don't want any of you to die because of me."

"Sarah, that's not going to happen, honey, so stop being ridiculous." Why, he wondered were humans so prone to hysteria?

"He'll kill you . . . all of you, just to get to me. Enough people have died, just . . . let him have me and be done with it."

Though he did try, Carlisle couldn't keep the annoyance from his voice. "Esme, remind me when we get back to the hotel to start Sarah on an antidepressant. She's talking foolishness and I'll not tolerate it."

She was sullen after that, refusing to as much as respond to her own name. Once back in the room, Esme sat with her to make sure she ate. Half way through her lunch, he placed four pills in the palm of her hand.

"There's usually only three."

These were the first words she'd spoken since he rebuked her in the car.

"The fourth one is an antidepressant," he informed her in his most professional tone. "You'll be taking it once a day for at least the next six months. Beyond that, we'll wait and see."

"I'm not depressed."

"Is that right?" His professionalism was starting to wane. "You want to die, Sarah, that's generally considered one of the primary symptoms of Clinical Depression."

"I don't want to die, but . . . I don't want any of you to die either."

He was about to argue with her when Esme gave him the look. It had the effect of ice water being thrown on white-hot steel. His angry words tumbled to a halt before they could find their way to his tongue. In a way, he was glad, had he said what he had intended to, it would have hurt Sarah deeply and he would have regretted it for all time.

"Kitten," Esme began gently, "a lot has happened over these past few weeks; you lost your two best friends, you nearly died in the wilderness yourself, your beloved aunt was brutally murdered and now you're forced to step up and deal with her arrangements, you were attacked and almost kidnapped at the airport, and you find yourself being hunted by a psychopath. Sarah, honey, that's enough to push most people well beyond the edge."

"Do you really think so?" she squeaked. Carlisle could hear the brink of tears in her voice.

"I know so, Kitten," Esme cooed. "Now, take your medicine Sarah, and don't be ashamed or embarrassed about doing it. Believe me, if Carlisle didn't feel strongly that you needed it he wouldn't prescribe it for you."

There was a momentary pause before she put all four pills in her mouth and washed them down with several mouthfuls of soda. In spite of himself, he sighed with relief. For possibly the millionth time since he found her, he thanked all of Heaven for the absolute love of his life, his beautiful and patient Esme.

"I'm sorry Doc," Sarah apologized.

In an instant, he was behind her with his hands on her shoulders. He hoped she didn't notice the suddenness of his movement. "That's alright, honey. Esme is right; you're going through a lot. I should have realized that and not allowed myself to get so upset." Then he bent and kissed the top of her head affectionately. "You should get some rest now; it's been a rough morning."

* * * *

Shortly after Sarah fell asleep, Jasper and Alice arrived to keep an eye on the girl while the doctor and his wife attended to their needs. Carlisle hadn't been hunting since before leaving Forks and the painful thirst that scorched his throat contributed heavily to his irritability. The nearby Atchafalaya was home to a bounty of game and the murky depths of the swamp would make a perfect place for him to burn his coat as well as ditch the poor detective's badge.

By the time he and Esme returned, it was dark. Edward and Bella were at the hotel too, and they had been thoughtful enough to bring Sarah some dinner. She had all four of them gathered around the room's small table teaching them to play Bourré, a local card game similar to poker. Since they were playing with a standard deck, not one marked in brail, she was serving as the dealer and Bella was helping her play her hand.

Emmett and Rose arrived an hour or so later and, while Rose settled down to watch TV with Esme, Emmett got into the card game. With his competitive streak, it was predictable. Sarah bowed out of the game, allowing Bella to become the dealer, while she took a seat next to Emmett to coach him. Jasper gave Emmett a generous handful of animal cracker with which to wager. He doled out a second, even more generous, handful to Sarah for her to munch on. Undoubtedly, he too had noticed the subtle shift in Sarah's scent that signaled a drop in her blood sugar. Though he intended to run a full battery of labs on her just as soon as they were back in Forks, Carlisle suspected her glucose fluctuations were a result of extreme stress and poor appetite.

He settled on the edge of the bed and pretended to watch TV. To the casual onlooker, his expression would have appeared impassive. In actuality, at that very moment, he was quite contented. In spite of the tragic reason for their trip, in spite of the mortal threat of Cane, he had his wonderful family around him and this made everything else moot. From the corner of his eye, he watched Sarah smile as she helped Emmett win his first trick of the hand they were playing. It was good to see her smile, even briefly. In all the years of his existence, he'd never encountered a creature quite like Sarah. The sight of her sorrow and pain seemed to suck all the light and joy from the world, and when she smiled, light and joy returned with the radiance of a golden sunrise. Her laughter was the music of an angel's song and, like her good-natured spirit, it had the effect of being contagious. In their late night conferences, the family consensus was that life in the Cullen household without Sarah Babineaux would be dull and gray.

The unexpected knock at the door startled everyone. The room instantly went as quiet as a tomb. As Carlisle got up to answer the door, he watched Sarah wrap her trembling hand around Emmett's elbow. Emmett answered this by patting the back of her hand and whispering words of encouragement to her. He was every bit the protective big brother.

The doctor opened the door halfway expecting to find the ever-impertinent Cane on the other side. Instead, he found two gentlemen dressed in suits; one of them flashed a badge.

"Can I help you?" the doctor asked kindly.

"I'm Detective Mitchell and this is my partner, Detective Thibodaux," the one who flashed his badge informed him. "Were sorry for the intrusion on you and your family, but we're looking for Dr. Carlisle Cullen."

"I'm Dr. Cullen," he answered casually. "Would you gentlemen care to come in?"

"Actually, Sir, we would like to have a word with you . . . Privately, if you don't mind."

"Certainly," Carlisle turned to Esme and smiled. "Would you bring me my jacket, dear?"

If it were possible for his lovely wife's complexion to grow paler, in that instant it did. She brought him his leather jacket and, as he took it from her, he bent and kissed her behind the ear.

"Call Benjamin," he whispered faintly against her skin and then audibly he told her he loved her and that he would be back shortly. Then he followed the detectives to the parking lot.

* * * *

Carlisle waited patiently in the small interrogation room. Except for the metal table, four chairs, and bare light bulb hanging from the ceiling, the room was empty. It fit all the stereotypes of every TV police drama he'd ever watched.

According to the two detectives, he was not under arrest. He certainly hadn't been read his Miranda rights nor had he been booked. This was just an interview, he was told. Because he had been in close phone contact with Detective Richardson over the past few weeks, he was a person of interest. Regardless, he would fell much better when Benjamin, his attorney, showed up. Like the good doctor, Ben was a vampire; unlike the doctor, he was not a vegetarian. Try skipping out on paying your legal bill with Ben and he would suck you dry, literally. Because of his collection policy, he was both well paid and well fed.

The door opened and the two detectives entered the small room. The one who identified himself as Detective Mitchell had a folder in his hands, the other detective carried three cups of strong smelling coffee. It was possible, of course, for him to simply overpower the two officers and escape before anyone could catch him. That, unfortunately, would make him a fugitive and put his family, especially Bella, in an awkward position. Whatever the trouble was, he had to face it head on.

"It's pretty late and we know you've had a long day already." Detective Thibodaux said with a friendly smile. "I thought you might like some coffee."

Thibodaux was going to play the good cop, Carlisle mused, so Mitchell must be the bad one.

"Thank you," he answered Thibodaux. "That's very kind of you."

He had no intention of drinking the coffee and no intention of touching the cup. There was no need for him to leave any interesting forensic evidence behind to keep the white coats at the crime lab up all night.

"What can I do for you gentlemen?"

Mitchell tossed the folder down in front of him, pulled out his chair, and sat down. "Go ahead and have a look, Doc."

"Is it something I want to look at?" The question was just enough goading to get Mitchell to open the folder for him. The picture inside was gruesome; he instantly recognized Cane's handy work. He put on a look of human horror at the photos. It wasn't difficult.

"Recognize him?"

Carlisle shook his head, "No."

"That's Detective Richardson," Mitchell snapped. "Or what's left of him. Our M.E. said the probable cause of death was exsanguination."

With that much mutilation to the body, Carlisle wondered how the Medical Examiner had managed to pin down a definitive cause of death, exsanguination or otherwise.

"You want my expert medical opinion?" he asked casually.

"No, Doctor," Mitchell was on the brink of losing his temper. By the pounding of his heart, the doctor could tell the man's blood pressure was nearly off the scale. "We would like to know just where you were around eight thirty this morning."

"Alright, that's simple enough. I was driving my wife and Miss Sarah Babineaux to the Country Corner restaurant to have a breakfast meeting with Detective Richardson."

"Did the detective show up for that meeting?" Thibodaux asked.

"No, he did not. We waited as long as we could, but Miss Babineaux had an appointment with the funeral director at Des Armand and Sons. We didn't want to miss it. This whole affair has been very hard on Sarah."

"Did you, at any time in the last twenty-four hours, meet personally with Detective Richardson?" By the ring in Thibodaux's voice Carlisle could tell the man was leading up to something.

"No, I did not. In fact, I have never met the detective personally before in my life. We spoke only by phone."

"Is that right?" A wicked gleam lit Mitchell's hazel eyes. It was the sort of look a man got when he found out he was the sole winning ticket holder in the Mega-Millions jackpot. Dread settled like a hot brick in the pit of Carlisle's stomach. The doctor watched as Mitchell fished a plastic evidence bag from his coat pocket and tossed it down on the metal table. It landed with a heavy metallic thud.

"Do you recognize that object, Doctor?"

Dear God in Heaven, he thought to himself as he stared at the bag, how had it come to this? How could he have been so distracted that he had missed something so obvious? He looked down at his hand and shook his head in disbelief. He was meticulous in everything, about everything, and yet this detail had somehow escaped him. Was he going senile, did vampires get senile? He couldn't take his eyes off the bag even as his mind raced in a thousand directions at once.

"Well, Doctor, do you recognize it or not?"

How had Cane done it, he wondered, as he continued to stair wordlessly at the shiny blood-covered bobble. Obviously, he had seriously underestimated the monster's capabilities. He had to admit, in spite of his present predicament, the move was bold, shear genius really. Getting out of this one was going to take boatloads of finesse, but that's what he paid Benjamin's healthy retainer for.

With a sigh, he tore his eyes away from the bag. "Gentlemen, I think I'd rather wait for my attorney to arrive before I answer any more of your questions."

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	12. Chapter 12

Note; It ain't mine, enough said!

Chapter 11

Inside Every Kitten Beats the Heart of a Lion

Sarah went to sleep the previous night worrying about Doc, everyone did. The mood as she took her morning shower was still somber. Dr. Cullen hadn't returned to the room, and hadn't called. By the amount of concern she read in Esme's voice Sarah could tell this was highly unusual. While everyone tried to make light of the situation a melon sized knot of anxiety was festering deep in her gut.

As she rinsed the last of the soapsuds from her body, the familiar tingle of electricity danced across her skin as each fine hair on her body stood on end. Anger instead of fear welled up inside her this time. Cane was responsible for this. The mere thought of the kind and gentle Dr. Cullen dead at the foul hands of that psychopath made her blood boil. She cut off the water and felt her way out of the shower stall. As she hastily dried herself and dressed, she listened to the sound of muffled conversation from the room beyond. She made one last check of her clothes to ensure everything was fastened and she was decent. With her hand on the doorknob, she took one last deep breath before allowing the inferno of rage to consume her. She burst from the bathroom with the furry of a caged lion.

"How dare you!" She bellowed as she took several steps forward. "First you killed my family, and then you killed my aunt, you most likely killed that poor detective. Now you come here to gloat over killing Dr. Cullen too and in front of his poor wife no less. Have you no shame!"

"Sarah." Bella's voice called softly but insistently.

"No Bella, I'm not afraid of this worthless piece of swamp garbage anymore." Her fists were clenched and she was trembling now, but with rage not fears. "You want to dance with me, you little slime ball, well come on lets dance. But as God is my witness, I swear if you harm just one more member of this family my ghost will haunt your pathetic ass from now until the end of days and even then your soul won't see peace." She managed a few more steps forward. "Come on freak, what are you waiting for, take me!"

"Sarah." Bella's voice was more insistent this time. "You need to calm down."

"I don't need calm Bella." Sarah purred in the most threatening tone she could muster. "What I need is to get my hands on Cane, rip his black heart out, and shove it down his ugly throat."

"Is that so young lady?" An unfamiliar male voice chuckled; it didn't hold the ominous sound of French horns. This voice was the soulful and melodic saxophone. "You must be Sarah Babineaux, you're quite the little bobcat aren't you my dear."

She felt color burn in her cheeks, from embarrassment this time, not anger. The stranger chuckled again, obviously amused by the turn of events.

"I told you to calm down." Bella murmured as she took Sarah by the elbow and pulled her down on the edge of the bed.

"Don't feel too badly Sarah," The saxophone soothed. "Your courage is very commendable, foolhardy to be sure, but commendable none the less. A fire burns in this one's spirit Esme; I truly think she's more than worthy to be called a Cullen."

"We think so." There was a note of heartfelt pride in _The Bird's Theme_. "Sarah, this is Mr. Benjamin Wiseman, our family's attorney."

"I'm sorry Mr. Wiseman, I thought you were. . . .Someone else."

"That's quiet alright dear child," He addressed her in a patriarchal tone. "But allow me to give you some sound advice, don't ever confront Cane the way you just confronted me. That's a sure way to a very painful and bloody death." he paused and she heard the sound of paper rustling. "Have you had breakfast yet?"

"No Sir."

"Bella, be a dear and take your sister to breakfast. Esme and I have some business to discuss."

* * * *

It was past ten in the morning and Carlisle had spent a ghastly night in a holding cell. He still, technically, wasn't under arrest and no charges were currently pressed against him. According to the detectives, they had a legal right to hold him on suspicion alone for forty-eight hours. It was infuriating and embarrassing at the same time. His life thus far was the epitome of scrupulous behavior. Never in his centuries of existence had he been in trouble with the law, never had he spent a signal night in anyone's jail. In one fell swoop, Cane had ruined his perfectly spotless record. For that alone and nothing else, Cane deserved to die.

The door to his cell opened and two young officers came in.

"You have a visitor Doctor." The dark haired one spoke nervously.

Carlisle realized the extent of the anger that must be etched on his granite face and he deliberately tried to soften his expression. There was no need to frighten these young police officers to death. His current situation wasn't their fault after all.

"Who is it?" He asked as he stood very slowly.

"A Mr. Wiseman," The same officer spoke again. "He says he's your attorney."

He felt himself smile as he let out a sigh of relief. Finally, Benjamin had come and things would get moving. He allowed the two officers to lead him from the cell to a small conference room. Ben was waiting for him

When the officers were gone, the two men took their seats. Carlisle watched Ben read the thin case file the detectives had on him. Ben sighed and shook his head.

"You realize this doesn't look very good Carlisle."

"I know. Believe me, I know." the doctor answered.

He rubbed the empty place on his right ring finger, where his missing bauble used to reside. It was a very distinctive piece bearing the intricate crest of the Cullen family. The heavy gold ring was an heirloom that once belonged to his father, and to his grandfather, and to his grandfather's father before that. Anyone curious enough to run a few simple tests would have been shocked by the purity of the gold and age of the ring. He guessed, on today's market, that a ring dating from the early fifteen hundreds would fetch a handsome sum.

How he managed to loose it and how Cane managed to find it still confounded him. His best guess was that he'd lost it during the scuffle in the airport parking lot. The worst part, the most painfully embarrassing part, was that until the detective tossed it on the table, he hadn't noticed it missing. Now it was a piece of crucial evidence in a crime scene investigation that placed him, all be it falsely, at the heart of a police officer's murder.

"What can we do?" Carlisle asked.

"Well, the good news is you do have a very strong alibi, at the time of the murder you were with your beautiful wife and the lovely Miss Sarah." Ben smiled fondly. "I rather like that girl by the way, for a human she's quite pugnacious. Do you know she mistook me for Cane when I visited Esme at the hotel this morning? That little bobcat was ready to fight me in defense of your family. You have absolutely no idea how invigorating I found that. Please tell me you plan on turning the girl as I would dearly love to have her for my mate."

"Ben." He reproached his old friend. "At just shy of five hundred, you're much too old for Sarah. Besides I could never do that to her, my family and I like her just the way she is."

"A pity, truly a pity." Ben shook his head. "I finally find a young woman I could imagine myself spending the rest of forever with and, what do you know, she's a human and under the protection of one of my oldest and dearest friends." He began going through his papers again as he changed the subject back to business. "Well, the really stick part of your case is how your ring ended up on the bloody body of a dead policeman. If we can satisfy the powers that be regarding your innocents on that point, I think you'll be free and clear."

"And how do we do that?" Carlisle asked.

"You have you specialty and I have mine Carlisle." Ben smiled a twisted smile and winked. "Sit back, relax, and let old Ben work his magic."

* * * *

By the time Sarah returned to the hotel after breakfast with Bella, Esme and Mr. Wiseman were gone. Edward however, was waiting for them. He and Bella were to take her shopping for a new dress to ware to her aunt's wake and funeral. Ever the consummate gentleman, just like his father, Edward helped both ladies into the car.

They were on their way to the local mall. Edward and Bella sat together in the front seat talking in rapid, hushed tones. For the first time in days, she allowed herself to drift on the harmonic interplay of their voices. It was soothing and she closed her sightless eyes and reveled in the beautiful dance of sound.

"Sarah." The piano roused her from her daydreams. "Do you mind if I ask you something?"

"I guess not."

"Bella tells me you mistook Mr. Wiseman for Cane. Why?"

She felt the car abruptly change directions and come to a halt and then she heard him cut off the engine. They must be at the mall.

"You'll just think I'm crazy."

"No we won't." Bella soothed. "We live in a glass house too . . .remember."

Sarah couldn't help her smile. If Vincent or Skeeter had asked that same question, she wouldn't have hesitated to answer.

"Do you remember when I turned green at the airport and you thought it was air-sickness." She began, a little nervously.

"Yes."

"Well, it wasn't air-sickness, I. . . .I think it was Cane." She went on shyly. They might not think she was off balance, but listing to the words coming from her own lips made her doubt herself. "When ever he's around, it starts as a tingling at the base of my skull and then every fine hair on my body stands on end and it feels like electricity is playing across my skin. I get really sick to my stomach and it's all I can do to keep from throwing up, and I usually get dizzy too."

"And Wiseman's presence made you feel this way?" She could hear the notes of surprise in the ivory keys of Edward's voice.

"Well, not exactly." She paused a minuet. "I thought about it later and well . . . I only felt the first part. With Mr. Wiseman, there was no sick stomach and dizziness, and the other symptoms were less intense than before."

"Interesting." He mumbled as he helped her from the back seat. "Do you ever experience any of these symptoms around any of us?"

"You do think I'm crazy."

"No, no Kitten" He assured her as he wrapped her hand around the crook of his elbow. "In my opinion, you're quite sane. It's just that Cane and Wiseman, and the rest of us are . . .well. . .cut from a similar cloth so to speak."

"No." she finally answered his question. "And I never felt that way around Vincent and Skeeter." She paused and swallowed the lump in her throat before speaking again. "This isn't normal is it, what's wrong with me?"

"Nothing." Bella cooed. "There's nothing wrong with you, right Edward."

He didn't answer. Instead, they walked through the parking lot in silence. Sarah felt the same rising anger swelling inside her that she had in the hotel earlier that morning. She stopped suddenly and then stumbled when Edward inadvertently took the next step without her. He caught her before she could fall.

"What's wrong with me?" She demanded. She hoped her voice and her face wore matching expressions of determination.

"Nothing." Bella cooed again. "You're just feeling. . ."

The sound of the harpsichord trailed off and Sarah could tell by the thick tension that they were glaring at each other. She could feel the indecision radiating off Edward and the panic stirring in Bella.

"We need to talk Sarah." The piano dropped in to a somber octave.

"No Edward, you can't." Panic rang through ever note in Bella's voice. "Carlisle will be. . ."

"Carlisle will understand." he cut her off calmly.

They changed direction and walked away from the noise of the crowded mall entrance. Finally, they stopped and Edward helped her down onto a bench. She felt the bench dip under his weight and groan as he sat down beside her.

"Forgive me if I stumble through this," he began after taking a deep breath. "I'm not sure how to begin really. . ."

"Begin by ending it." She heard Bella warn. There was a touch of hurt in her voice that somehow seemed out of place.

"Trust me love," He directed at Bella. "I won't tell her more that I feel she needs to know. Now, where was I, oh yes, the beginning. Certain. . . .people. . . .for reasons no one seems to fully understand, are born with. . . .traits. Very special traits that allow them to do very remarkable things."

"Special traits." Sarah repeated. To say she was confused would have been an understatement. "And you're suggesting that I have these. . . .traits?"

"Well, yes." He supplied. "And the traits are different for different people. Take me, for example. . ." He trailed off into a pause. Sarah could sense he wanted to tell her something very wonderful, yet something he kept closely guarded. "I. . . .I read thoughts Sarah."

"You can read my mind?" Though this was shocking to her, she believed him and surprisingly she wasn't afraid.

"Yes, but it's extremely difficult for me to do so. Bella is the only person whose thoughts I absolutely cannot read. That's her special trait." She could sense deep pride in his voice as he said that. "Most people's thoughts are so loud they're like shouts inside my head. I hear them without trying. Yours on the other hand, are so soft they're barley even a whispers and I _really_ have to listen to hear them. That's why you stumbled in the parking lot. Ordinarily I would have heard you thinking about stopping, but with all the noise from the people in the mall I missed it."

"So, quiet thoughts are my special trait." she was more confused now than before.

"Well, yes I suppose," he chuckled. "One of them anyway. I actually started this conversation referring to your built-in radar."

"_Radar_, you mean like a bat with echo-location." she felt her face contort oddly. "If this is your idea of a blind joke, it's not funny."

Bella laughed coldly. "I can't wait to see how you get out of this one."

Sarah could feel the hot gaze they exchanged.

"It's not a joke Sarah; I'm not so insensitive as to make amusement at your expense. This is serious." He paused and she sensed he was weighing her reaction. When she remained silent, he continued. "You know our family is _different_."

Sarah nodded.

"Well, so is Cane and Mr. Wiseman. It seems your special trait is being able to detect the presence of . . .uhm. . . ._different_ people."

"But, my _radar_ doesn't work on you and the rest of the family. Why?"

She felt him become a little tense at her question and she knew she was close to the point of no more answers.

"My family is different even among _different _people." He sighed. "I know that sounds very confusing and I wish I could clarify it but I can't. The detailed explanation would put your life in mortal danger."

She was silent for a time as she digested all she'd learned

"Just how many _different_ people are there in the world?" She finally asked.

"Not many." He answered. "The exact number can vary but we don't keep a census."

"How many different _different_ people are there?"

"Oooh," He sighed as he got up and helped her to her feet. "Fewer than you could count on your fingers and toes. In fact you've probably met over half of the world's different _different _population already."


	13. Chapter 13

Note: yah, I know it's getting old, but I don't own it.

Chapter 12

Wakening the Lion

Carlisle paced from one end of the hotel room to the other. He was aware of Esme and Ben following his every movement with their eyes, but he didn't care. Where could they possibly be? For the love of Pet, it wasn't like she'd gone shopping with Alice after all, how long could it take to pick out a black dress. His mind screamed with frustration. A dozen times, over the past few hours he'd tried to call Edward and Bella. Each time neither of them answered their cel phones.

"Do you want me to go looking for them?" Ben offered kindly. "Sarah's delightful scent is unforgettable and I'm sure I'll have no trouble tracking her."

"That's exactly what I'm worried about." Carlisle muttered.

By now he was so annoyed he felt like tearing the television set from it's moorings on the dresser and tossing it out the front window, along with every other piece of furniture in the room. His night spent at the parish jail courtesy of Cane put him in a sourer mood. Not being able to get into contact with Edward, Bella, and Sarah had turned that sourer mood positively rancid. Ben managed to get him released from custody at 1:37pm, he arrived at the hotel at 2:54pm, it was now 5:46pm, and Sarah was due at the funeral home for her aunt's wake at 7:30pm. If the trio didn't soon return, they would run late to the wake and if there was one thing the doctor absolutely detested it was being late, that, and having his phone calls ignored by his own children.

The door opened suddenly and the doctor's hopes flared, only to be dashed as Alice and Jasper walked in. It took every ounce of control he had to keep him from punching a hole through the paper-thin wall.

"What's wrong with Carlisle?' Jasper asked Esme in the lowest tone he could manage. "Was there a jail brake and I missed it, are we on the lamb now?"

"No." Esme whispered. "Sarah's not back from shopping with Edward and Bella yet."

"Oh." There was clearly disappointment written on Jasper's face.

Alice nudged him. "Don't look so put out, you're only upset because you wanted an excuse to steal a car."

That was the last straw, the final threads of his tenuous control evaporated like fog before the noonday sun. "For Heaven's sake, is that all the two of you can think about right now, your own selfish gratification?" he bellowed. It had been ages since he had last taken that tone of voice with anyone in his beloved family. His regret was immediate, but he was too embarrassed by his loss of control to apologize.

Ben was beside him now, his firm hand rested in silent comfort on Carlisle's shoulder. "Calm down old friend, there's no need to take this out on them."

He was right; of course, Alice and Jasper had nothing to do with his current irritation. "I'm sorry," he mumbled, "It's not your fault."

"Carlisle," Ben continued. "When did you feed last?"

"I went out with Esme yesterday afternoon."

_Ben_ nodded solemnly_. "_Your stressed old friend. It has been my experience over the years that stress heightens the appetite. You have a couple of hours, why don't you go hunting it'll make you feel better."

He turned to Ben. "I won't feel any better until my children walk through that door."

"To be sure." Ben now had his arm wrapped around Carlisle's shoulders, and he dropped his voice into a low ominous tone. "But given your current level of agitation, it might not be wise for you to be here when they return. You might end up doing something. . . .Regrettable."

"I would never hurt Sarah." He protested. He was shocked that his friend would even think he was capable of such a thing.

"I wasn't referring to Sarah." Ben's voice was still ominous. "I was speaking of Edward and Bella. How do you think the rest of your family would feel if they bore witness to you killing one or both of them in a fit of murderous rage? How do you think Sarah would feel if she knew first-hand what darkness lurked under the surface of the kindly Dr. Cullen?"

The voice of Ben's reason quenched the furry of his rage. He was right of course, thirst burned like hell fire in his throat and it needed to be stated.

"Tell Sarah I'm alright." He pinched the bridge of his nose as he concentrated on each measured breath. "Somehow I'm getting the impression that she's worried about me."

"Don't worry we'll tell her." Ben patted him between the shoulder blades. "Take you're time, it would be my honor to look after your wonderful family while you take care of your needs. If you happen to run late, I'll see to it that they arrive at the funeral home on time."

Carlisle took a deep breath as he put on his jacket. "Thank you Ben, I really appreciate this. I owe you."

"Don't mention it old friend. . . .I'll include the extra charges in your bill."

Carlisle couldn't help chuckling, and it felt good after all his anxious brooding. As he reached to pick up his phone from where it lay on the table, it began to vibrate.

Edward's name appeared on the caller ID screen. He didn't know whether to be relieved or furious. Alice made that decision that for him when she gasped. When he looked up at his daughter, she was several shades paler than usual and trembling like a leaf in a windstorm. With trepidation he answered the phone.

"Carlisle." Edward's voice was flat. "We have a problem."

* * * *

Sarah sighed as they paraded through _Maison Blanc _department store. She hated clothes shopping. It really mattered very little to her what an out fit looked like on her, for obvious reasons. What she found to be of paramount importance was how it felt; was it too tight or too loose, was the material scratchy against her skin or did it feel smooth like satin, in other words . . . Was it comfortable? According to Skeeter, she was defiantly not a fashionestia, but that fact didn't mean she neglected to take care of herself.

Colors also mattered little to her, again for obvious reasons. From early childhood, bright colors like peach, coral, and even yellow galled her sense of aesthetic harmony. Her favorite color, if she could say she had one, was lilac. This was for sentimental reasons rather than aesthetics. In the last vivid memory she had of her, Sarah's mother was wearing a lilac dress and they were on their way to church.

According to her friends, Sarah looked positively stunning in shades of deep green. This was due in no small part to her slightly Mediterranean cast and mahogany hair that she inherited from her fathers side of the family. According to these same friends, the color green made her hazel eyes dance with radiant light. Unfortunately, they weren't shopping for a green dress; they were after a black one. It was for a funeral after all.

"Sarah, are you Ok?" Edward asked. His voice was relaxed but full of curiosity.

"You were listening?" she wasn't annoyed, but she wished there were some way to tell when her thoughts were not her own.

"I'm sorry; generally I try to give those I care about their privacy." His voice held notes of remorse. "But we're in a very public place and I need to keep every available eye on you."

She knew exactly what he meant. Thoughts of what happened at the airport made her shudder.

"Rest assured he won't sneak up on you again, not on my watch."

She felt herself smile at his assurance. "There's nothing on my radar."

She heard both of them giggle. The piano and the harpsichord intertwined, it was glorious.

"That's good; let me know if that changes." He told her "By the way, what had you so upset a few moments ago?"

"I thought you were listening?" She was a little miffed.

"Only with one ear." He chuckled. "I have to keep the other one tuned on the rest of the mall, just incase."

She took a deep breath as the images of her mother played through her head again. She wished they were clearer; the crispness of her mother's features had faded in her mind's eye over the years.

"My mom." she finally whispered as moisture seeped into her eyes. She wiped it away with the back of her hand as she pushed the images aside.

"Do you think of her often?" Bella asked.

She shook her head, not trusting her voice just yet. "Not often," She finally added when she was surer of herself. "More so lately. . . .Please don't tell her but; Esme reminds me a lot of my mom."

"I think she'd be flattered to hear that." Bella informed her.

"I think . . . I like this one." Edward was trying to change the subject and she was grateful.

"_Thank you." _she thought as loudly as she could.

"Your welcome." he sounded a bit surprised. "But next time, not so loud please. Ok."

"You said I was quiet, how loud was that?"

"Very loud. You drowned out everything else in the vicinity and my head is still ringing."

"I'm sorry." she apologized sheepishly.

"That's Ok." he assured her, but to her ears, he sounded a little like he was in pain. "We're going to have to work on that little talent but, in the mean time. . . .What do you think?"

She heard Bella erupt into thunderous laughter. "I'm sorry Edward. . . .but. . .you don't have the figure. . . .to carry that off."

Sarah found herself laughing too as she imagined Edward modeling a dress.

* * * *

She managed to find a dress she liked and, by Bella and Edward's account, she looked really good in it. They stopped off at another shop for some shoes. Sneakers would have suited her just fine, but Bella insisted Alice would have a seizure if she wore them with the dress. Bella took her alone into the ladies store where they punched frilly things while Edward waited on a bench outside. She was in the food court now, it seemed her companions heard her stomach rumbling and insisted it was time for lunch. They let her pick, so they were having her favorite, Chinese.

They left her sitting at a small table and stepped ten paces away to read the menu before ordering. Vincent and Skeeter used to bring her here all the time, so she knew exactly what she wanted, Shrimp fried rice, General Toa's Chicken, and an egg roll. She knew they would have it; the menu hadn't change since the place opened.

She focused her hearing and listened to Bella and Edward. Though they were speaking too fast for her to make out anything they said, she enjoyed listening anyway. She found the sound of their familiar voices comforting.

"_Don't forget the chopsticks." _she thought just a little louder than she ordinarily would have and imagined Edward hearing her as she did so.

Edward laughed before answering her. "That's much better, and I won't."

She returned to musing at her normal volume. It occurred to her that, if she could think loudly enough to make Edward's mental ears ring, could she think softly enough that, even if her were _listening, _he wouldn't be able to hear her at all. She took a deep breath and decided to try an experiment. Instead of focusing outward and pushing her thoughts larger she, pulled inward, imagining her thought were no bigger than a single grain of sand. When she was sure she had the feeling of it, she focused on the tinkling piano that was Edward in her mind and imagined him hearing her.

"_And don't forget the Duck Sauce." _she whispered inside her head.

She heard them step up to the counter and Bella started talking to the young woman taking orders. There was no response for Edward. Perhaps he did hear her but was choosing not to acknowledge it. When Bella was finished placing the order she heard him ask for the chopsticks but not the Duck Sauce. She smiled triumphantly.

Edward's phone, which he left with her on the table, began vibrating she reached for it then pulled her hand back. What if it was a privet call, he might not want her snooping by answering his phone. It continued to vibrate. He said Doc might try calling, once Mr. Wiseman got him sprung from jail. It would be nice to hear his voice she thought, and she was sure neither he nor Edward would mind her intrusion. She scooped up the phone flipped it open and held it to her ear.

"Well hello there Sarah love, I was beginning to wonder if you were going to pick up the phone." It was odd hearing Cane's disembodied voice on the line, odd because the sensation of her radar wasn't present.

"What do you want freak." She demanded hotly.

"Here now, that's no fit way to answer the phone." He chided her. " Didn't that aunt of your teach you anything. If I didn't know better I'd swear you were raised in a barn."

"I'm so sorry." she faked an apologetic tone. "What do you want _Mr. Freak_."

"Ooooh, you are in rare form today Sarah." She could hear the amusement in his voice. "I see you found a dress to ware to your dear aunt's wake. I must say, I liked the third one you tried on the best, you know the one with the plunging neckline. Not very appropriate for mourning, but very fetching on you none the less."

A sudden chill crept up her spine. She remembered that exact dress. Both Edward and Bella though she looked totally awesome in that dress and they wanted to get for her anyway just because of the way it looked on her. She declined because she found it a little more revealing than she liked.

"You're following me." She growled. How had he managed to follow her with out setting off her radar?

"Of course. I've been following ya'll ever since ya'll left the hotel. "He snickered. "I even know where Edward and Bella parked there car. They're a cute couple by the way, too bad you miss all the lovey-dovey looks the give each other."

"Where are you?" she hoped her voice sounded angry and not panicked.

"Finally, an intelligent question." His wicked grin seemed to ooze through the phone and burry itself in deep her mind. "Close enough to watch you, but far enough away not to set off the alarms. You see love; you're not the only one with spider senses."

So he has radar to she mused, how very interesting. No wonder everyone was having such a hard time finding him, he sensed their coming long before they ever got close. He must have been very distracted at the airport for Doc, Edward and the others to get the jump on him.

"I'm going to ask you just one more time." The angry lion reared its head deep with in her and she could hear it snarl in her mind. "What do you want . . .and if I don't get a proper answer, I'm hanging up."

She heard him sigh, "Very well, no more niceties then." He paused briefly and then continued. The French horns held the most ominous tone she'd ever heard. "If the good Doctor were to end up in jail permanently behind his present calamity, it wouldn't bode well for him or his family. I have, in my possession, certain information that would clear the good Doctors name. I would be willing to make sure that information found its way to the proper hands provided I received the right. . . .Incentive."

"You want to dance," she whispered.

"Exactly."

"Tell me where you are," she goaded. "I'll have Edward and Bella bring me right over."

She was hoping his pompous nature would get the better of him and she could forward the information to Edward. Though he seemed to know about her radar, he didn't seem aware of the mind-speech thing she had going on.

Laughter roared through the phone. "I haven't lived this long being a fool Sarah." He finally managed when his laughter subsided. "You're going to get up, step out from behind the table and to your right, and start walking forward."

It was Sarah's turn to laugh. "I'm blind you moron. If I start walking aimlessly through the mall I'll run into things and I'm sure that will attract a great deal of attention."

"The name is Cane, kindly use it." the amount of annoyance in his voice was almost deafening. "You will follow my instructions. They will be very precise and you will not run into anything. . . that is if you value the doctor and his family. . . .Now move!"

She allowed herself one last listen to Edward and Bella talking together before she scooted from behind the table and took her first awkward step toward the unknown. Quietly, deep inside her mind, she held the sand grain of an idea that was her plan. The angry lion roared with renewed furry at the back of her mind and Sarah smiled.


	14. Chapter 14

Note: I don't own Twilight. . dhu.

Chapter 13

Lions Have Teeth Too

She held the phone tight against her ear as she hung on Cane's ever word. Though he was doing a stellar job of guiding her, she hated letting him be her eyes. It wasn't the first time she navigated via verbal directions; in fact, it was a game she used to play with Vincent and Skeeter. She trusted them. She didn't trust Cane further than she could spit.

On the up side, the experience of walking across the open and unknown expanse of the mall without her white cane or a friend at her elbow was exhilarating. She imagined this must be what birds felt when they flew, a little bit scary and a whole lot wonderful. She certainly liked this kind of flying better than being on the airplane. The cramped quarters made her feel like she was going to smother and the noise of the engines violated her sensitive hearing, making her ears hurt. The MP3 player was a godsend; she only wished she'd remembered to thank Edward.

"Stop." he ordered over the phone and her response was immediate. A mall security patrol in a golf cart whizzed by just inches in front of her, almost hitting her.

He was very good and his orders were indeed precise; stop, pause and wait three breaths, hesitate for two heartbeats, go now, angel to the left, angel to the right and take four steps then forward again. In this manor, he circumnavigated her in and out thought the foot traffic of erratic children, old women with walkers, and groups of teens on leisurely shopping sprees. He talked her around benches, huge indoor potted plants, and cell phone kiosks. She didn't know what kind of dance he had in mind, but there present interlude was as intimate as any hot Latin tango.

When her radar kicked in it surprised her, and she stopped suddenly. The force of the rising nausea made her nearly gag.

"Cold feet already love?"

"No." she answered as she pushed down the urge to vomit. "You're finally in my radar range. No offence freak, but you make me sick. . . .Literally."

"I'm Sorry _Mon Cher_," Amusement played through the French horns "Do try not to throw up on my new Gouchi shoes while we do the slow waltz."

"How much further?" She porously complained; she saw no reason to go willingly. "I'm starting to get tired, if you were really the southern gentleman you pretend to be you'd meet me half way."

It wasn't a lie. Edward offered to help her along, so she'd left her crutched in the car. Walking unaided and baring, all her weight on her injury was taking its toil. Doc was going to be furious.

"Not far." he answered, she cold tell he was annoyed. "And I never claimed to be a gentleman love, so keep walking."

He directed her around a young family pushing a stroller.

"Where am I anyway, I can't smell food anymore and I hear lot's of children?" she was deliberately trying to get some bearings.

"There's a Disney Store on your left and a Walden's Bookstore across from it on your right." There was a wicked grin in his voice. "Feel better now love?"

"Thanks." She muttered, but inwardly she grinned.

Up to this point, she had been keeping her thoughts in quiet sand grain mood. She knew once Edward realized she was missing he'd try to track her using her thoughts. She wanted them to follow her of course, she wasn't stupid or suicidal, but she needed Cane distracted enough so as not to notice Edward and Bella's approach.

Now she opened her thoughts and focused on his ivory keys in her mind. She projected her thought pushing them ever outward until they were considerably louder that in the food court but well shy of mind splitting.

"_Edward, I know you can hear me so pay attention. I just passed the Disney store and I'm headed away from you. Don't rush in, this freak has radar too. I'm trying to keep him distracted so you and Bella can sneak up on him. I don't know if my trait will let me, but I'll try to keep this line open between us." _

"So, is this going to be like a first date or something?" she wanted to keep him talking so he wouldn't notice her friends. "Because, I could sure use something to eat before we get on with the festivities. You made me miss lunch."

"Didn't I tell you," he paused and she could sense his delight. "You are lunch."

The lion with in her growled. "You should get out more freak, your pick-up line sucks. Drunken frat boys are more original."

She heard him hiss over the phone. Opus that hit a nerve she thought and smiled.

"Stop." he instructed and she obeyed. "There's a set of stairs directly in front of you, climb them."

"In your dreams freak." she shot back. "My leg already hurts to the point of falling down and. . .Hello, I can't see the steps."

Now was a good time to stall and let her friends catch up. By the amount of nausea she was experiencing and the constant, almost painful, dance of electricity over her skin, she could tell Cane was very close. She had a plane B just incase Edward and Bella didn't show up in time. Unfortunately, she hadn't had time to field test her theory. It would either work and Cane would get a nasty surprise or it wouldn't and . . . .well she preferred not to think about that.

"Climb the stairs Sarah." He demanded, her closeness was making him anxious, she could tell. His primal desire radiated through the phone in waves like heat. For the first time since she stood up and started walking, a wave of fear coursed through her.

"I don't think so." She tried to sound sultry, like those daytime soap stars. "Find me an elevator or. . ." She sighed. "I guess I'll just have to sit down here and wait for the next security guard to come by and help me."

When he didn't answer right away, she eased herself down onto the bottom step. She truly did not intend to climb stairs. Minuets passed and there was silence on the other end of the phone. She wondered if he'd hung up or if the call was dropped. She was about to hang up herself when she heard footsteps coming down the stairs above her. Dread washed over her, she knew who it was even before he spoke.

He grabbed her by the top of the arm as he passed and hauled her to her feet. "Truly, you are the most stubborn and insufferably irritating human I have ever met." He was dragging her along behind him now and she could tell they were headed for the outside doors.

_Edward, this would be your signal to hurry up. He's taking me outside, and he's really pissed. I think I took my game of bait the bull a smidgen too far. _

You think, she chided herself as he drug her along. She widened the focuses of her hearing trying to detect the sound of anyone nearby that might help. Except for the sound of a few passing cars on the very edge of her hearing, she found nothing. The angry lion with in her roared for release. It was time to test plan B.

Quickly she rifled through her mental index of the world's most annoying sounds. It wasn't hard to settle on one, it came to her courtesy of her high school gym coach. Every time she blew that stupid whistle Sarah had to fight the urge to snatch it away from her and shove it down her grouchy throat. If that woman only knew how excruciating that sound was to her sensitive ear maybe, she wouldn't have used it so liberally.

She held the memory of the sound tightly in her mental grasp, focusing on the loud painfulness of it. Then she reached for the sound of French horns that represented Cane in her mind and imagined him hearing her. She opened the volume of her thoughts full out and pushed them towards Canes mind. The reaction was instantaneous, he released her from his grasp and stumbled into the nearest parked car. It sounded like a traffic accident. He bellowed in pain like a wounded animal.

She didn't let his reaction distract her, instead she kept pouring in on, keeping the volume as loud and intense as possible. She heard him struggle to his feet only to stumble into yet another car, she hoped the poor owners had insurance. He was on the ground now thrashing and wailing in agony. Fine beads of moisture began collecting on her forehead as she strained to keep up her concentration.

If she were sighted, she could have run away and left him writhing in the parking lot. Instead, she had to continue to hold him in mental anguish until her friends arrived. A wave of wooziness hit her; she pushed it aside and refocused on the annoying whistle and Cane's mind. She intended to drill that damn whistle into the middle of his brain so that he would hear it from now until dooms-day.

"Sarah." The tinkling notes of the piano called her name. It was a momentary distraction, as she becoming aware of Edward and Bella running toward her but it was all Cane needed. He was off the ground and gone before she could reclaim her focuses.

They were at her side now; she could feel their eyes assessing her for any sing of injury. It was a good thing they arrived when they did, the wooziness returned and brought with it a splitting headache. She felt her knees go suddenly week and buckle under her but Edward caught her before she collapsed. He held her in one arm and with his free hand, he took his phone from her. She was on the verge of blackness now as she listened to him dialing the phone.

"Carlisle." he said in a flat tone. "We have a problem."


	15. Chapter 15

Note: Twilight isn't mine.

Chapter 14

Lions and Tigers and . . . . Dragons . . . Oh my!

Carlisle sat in the dimly lit hotel room watching Sarah sleep. He carefully counted each shallow rise and fall of her chest, her respiration was normal. He tuned his predator's ear to the beating of her heart counting each contraction and paying close attention to the quality of the steady lub-dub-lub-dub rhythm. Her pulse was normal with no sign of any cardiac irregularities.

It hadn't been that way when Edward brought her back to the hotel. She was unconscious, pale, covered in a fine sheen of moisture, barely breathing, and her heartbeat was wildly erratic. It took him over two hours to stabilize her and, without the proper equipment and drugs he needed, he considered that miraculous.

She shifted in her sleep, moaned softly, and then settled once again. A glance at her twitching eyelids told him she was deep in REM sleep and dreaming. He fervently hoped she wasn't reliving the events of the afternoon.

Keeping some level of his consciousness focused on Sarah, he allowed the rest of his mind to ponder the story Edward and Bella told him. It was the tale of a day of shopping gone all wrong in many ways. There was, of course, the encounter with Cane. That detail alone made him so ferrous with Edward that he nearly lost control of himself. How could he have been so careless as to allow that monster to get close to Sarah a second time. Bella's calm explanation that Cane possessed a similar radar trait that Sarah had helped quell his rage. Cane's _ability_ helped keep him at a safe, inconspicuous distance and helped him evade their hunts.

The issue of the unanswered phone calls also galled him. That, it seemed, boiled down to a matter of reception, inside the mall it was touch and go at best.

Sarah moaned again, and he turned his focus on her just long enough to make sure she was all right. He wasn't sure what to make for Edwards tactful explanation of her special talents. His son left out any mention of what they were and stuck to the fact that they were simply _different_. Unfortunately, if she were going to survive, she would need a better grounding in the use of her unique abilities. She would also need a better explanation of what he, his family, and Can were. At some point, he would be forced to tell her the truth about, _different_ people, or as close to the truth as he dared get

Those explanations had been the focus of his musings over the past two hours. He played several different scenarios thought his mind at once; none of them really satisfied him. He sighed as he watched Sarah stir again. She was about to wake up, he sensed this by the subtle change in her breathing and heart rate. With this in mind, he went to sit on the edge of the bed.

"Doc?" she muttered softly.

"I'm here Sarah." He watched the expression of pain twist her face as her right hand went immediately to her temple.

"Headache?" he asked in a softer tone.

"Yes, the worst one of my life." she was rubbing her head and there was a faint whimper in her voice.

He got up and went to his bag. Before leaving Forks, he packed it with everything he thought he might need to attend to any medical situation Sarah might encounter. Like Bella before her, Sarah had a propensity for finding danger, and therefore trouble. He was prepared for anything short of a blood transfusion, a massive heart attack, or major emergency surgery. He hadn't planed on the emergence of her incredible talent.

As he drew up the medicine into the syringe, he continued to watch her out of the corner of his eye. "I'm going to give you something for your headache." He told her.

"Where is everyone?" She asked.

"This needs to go into your hip honey," He informed her when he returned to her bedside. He helped her to roll onto her side. The movement aggravated her head and she grimaced. "Esme and Alice went with Ben to the wake; they felt someone should be there to represent the family. The others are out looking for Cane."

"They won't find him." She whimpered. "He'll know there coming."

"Maybe they'll get lucky." He tried to sound positive but he had his own doubts. With practiced efficiency, he administered the contents of the syringe, and then withdrew the needle carefully. "That should make you feel much better." He helped her onto her back again. "Try to go back to sleep."

Her eyes remained closed, but she was restless and couldn't seem to settle into sleep again. It was going to be a long night, the doctor mused.

"I wish Esme were here, no offence. . . . I mean," She stuttered, "I enjoy your company too but . . ."

"No offence taken Sarah" He wished for his wife's presence too. "Her singing helps you sleep, I've noticed that."

"Do you sing?"

"I can and do sing," He answer her honestly. "However, I wouldn't consider it my strongest talent. But," He hesitated momentarily as butterflies stirred in his stomach at the thought of what he was about to do. "How do you feel about bedtime stories?"

"My dad used to read them to me." She admitted.

He watched a faint smile curl her lips, which made him relax. "Do you know what an allegory is?"

She nodded. "It's like a parable isn't it?"

"More or less." There were differences between parables and allegories but since she had the general idea, he decided not to nit-pick. "The story I'm going to tell you is an allegory."

He watched her snuggle into her pillow and get comfortable. When she was settled, he began.

"Once upon a time in an ancient, long forgotten, land there lived a blind peasant girl named. . . ._Sarah_. She was young, smart, very beautiful, and perhaps most importantly, pure of heart. Her life was one of hardship, as she had lost all those she held most dear to her very early on in life. Because of this she struggled through the world all alone"

He paused to judge her reaction to the opening of his story. When he saw nothing disturbing written in her angelic features so he continued.

"One day Sarah was making her way along the Kings Highway, alone as usual, when she came to a desolate stretch that passed through a dens dark forest. It just so happened that the desolate stretch was home to a band of highwaymen. They jumped from the cover of the trees with the intention of robbing her, but they soon found she possessed nothing of value for them to steal. In retaliation for their wasted effort, the thieves beat her mercilessly and left her by the roadside to die."

"That's sad." she pouted.

"Yes kitten, unfortunately the world is often sad." He offered before going on. "Now, it also happened that in that same patch of forest a trio of Golden Dragon were out hunting the King's dear. They were brothers and one of them picked up Sarah's scent as she lay bleeding, and went to investigate. This could have been very bad for Sarah because, in general, dragons tended to fine human flesh most delectable. Given her injuries, if the dragons decided to attack her, Sarah wouldn't have been able to defend herself or escape. She would have made a very tasty snack.

However, fortune was smiling on her because, as it turns out, Golden Dragons are adverse to the consumption of human flesh, finding it highly disagreeable to there delicate senses. They much preferred dear or other large woodland game."

A broad grin spread across Sarah's face. Carlisle found this just a little unnerving, had she put thing together that quickly?

"What's the matter?" He asked.

"Nothing. I can see the dragons in my head, that's all. Do they have wings, can they fly?"

"No, they're flightless dragons, but they can run incredibly fast and they can jump higher than the highest castle wall." Carlisle shook his head and went on with his story.

"The largest of the dragon brothers, Zander by name, took great pity on the poor helpless girl and convinced his brothers that they should help her. Together, Zander, Melchior, and Beltran brought Sarah home to the large cave where they lived with the rest of their colony.

Their father Xerxes, a venerable and wise dragon, was shocked at his son's actions but at the sight of the poor child's suffering, he set his misgivings aside and ministered to her injuries. Few dragons, even Golden ones, possessed healing powers and it was fortunate that Sarah happened to come under the care of Xerxes."

Even though her grin continued to widen, the doctor pressed on.

"In the fullness of time, Sarah's injuries healed. During the course of her stay with her new and unusual hosts, a strange, magical thing happened. Day by day, a deep bond of love formed between Sarah and the dragons until she became a member of the colony. Celestin, Xerxes' mate, was especially fond of Sarah and doted over the girl as if she were her very own hatchling."

"How many dragons are in the colony?" she interupted to ask. "Just Xerxes, Celestin, and their sons?'

She was catching on, he could tell. He hoped she wasn't frightened. "No. There were eight altogether, each of the sons had a mate. Zander and his mate had a daughter but she fell in love with a. . . .Griffin and they were living happily else where." He paused. "May I continue?"

She nodded.

"Unbeknown to poor Sarah and her new family, a storm of trouble was brewing on the horizon. A dark shadow filled the sky over the King's Forest as the mighty Red Dragon, Vladimir, hovered on the updrafts. He was drawn to the location by the enchanting scent of Sarah's spilled blood. Red Dragons did not share the same aversion to human flesh that the Golden's felt. To a Red, humans are their normal and natural form of sustenance.

Sarah's scent was strongly familiar to Vladimir, as he had tasted the fruits of that particular branch of the human tree before. He was the beast responsible taking Sarah's family away from her all those years ago and leaving her blind and alone. One whiff of the sweat alluring fragrance stirred deep longings in the Vladimir that he knew could only satisfied by having his fill of Sarah's flesh. He would never know peace or rest until his desire for her was satisfied."

"So, Red Dragons are bad," She was trying to make sense of the story. "And Golden Dragons are good, right."

"Not exactly Sarah." he answered. "It's quite a bit more complex that because a dragon, of any kind, is neither good nor bad. You see, inside the heart of every Golden Dragon beats the heart of a Red. A dragon chooses whether to be to be Golden or not."

"Are all Red Dragons like Cane?" She asked innocently.

If his heart hadn't stopped beating over three centuries ago, that question would have stilled it instantly. "So you figured it out?"

"Not really, but linking Cane and Vladimir was easy enough." She smiled.

"No." He stopped to gather his thoughts; he had to phrase his response very carefully. "All dragons, be they Red or Golden, hunt in order to survive. Generally speaking, a dragon doesn't take more . . ._ game_, than it requires to meet it's needs. Cane is different, he doesn't hunt to satisfy his hunger he hunts for the thrill of killing."

She was silent for a time before she spoke again. "Is Mr. Wiseman a Red Dragon?"

"Yes." he answered calmly. "But he's an old and dear friend of mine and, because you belong to this family, he'll never harm you. In fact, he would protect you if I ask him too."

He watched her facial expression as it shifted between emotions. He'd given her a lot to think about and he knew it would take time for her to process it all. She seemed to accept his allegory very well and, as far as he could tell, she didn't seem freighted. All in all things were going better than he imagined they would.

"I think I have more questions," Deep thought filled her hazel eyes as she spoke. "But I'm not sure I want to ask them just now."

"Of course, we can revisit this topic later but I would ask one thing of you." He watched her nod. "Direct your question only to me, the others won't understand what you're going on about."

As he watched the innocent smile light her face, he knew he'd made the right choice in explaining thing to her. Whether she understood the full scope of his story or not, even if she never understood it, he felt better.

"Go to sleep now Sarah, you have a long day tomorrow."


	16. Chapter 16

_**Note: **__As always, I don't own Twilight. _

_**A note to my readers**__: This chapter is a bit somber. I'm sorry I was in one of my moods when I wrote it. Also any one who notice a listing for a Part two, I messed up tyring to up load this. It seems I upload faster than my files expire and I reached my max. I'm sure it's a happy accident and I'll use part two at another time._

_Enjoy! _

_Chapter 15_

_Lion's Tears_

_Sarah woke to a storm of commotion in the small hotel room. Every one was there and the explosion of their voices all-together inside her aching head sounded like the grand finally of the __1812 Overture_. She rolled onto her side, pulled the pillow over her head, and groaned. At her reaction, the room went instantly silent.

"Should she still have a headache Carlisle?" Esme twittered. Even though her voice was as soft in Sarah's ears as the beating of a doves wings it still hurt.

"That's hard to say, little is understood about how these traits work and Sarah's seems to be stronger than most." She could hear him rummaging through his bag. "I'll administer another dose of the medicine I gave her last night that should help, I hope."

"Perhaps a trip to the Emergency Room is in order." Edward suggested.

"If her symptoms persist into this evening, I'll consider it." He was beside her bed now, and taking full advantage of the fact that she was already on her side "Easy honey, just relax."

He must have noticed her flinch when the alcohol swab touched her skin, she couldn't help it. The reaction was reflexive. She hated shots with a purple passion. Thankfully, every time Doc gave her one, he had been very gentle and she had barely felt it. This time was no exception, though the medicine burned a little, she hardly felt the needle.

"She should eat something." the trumpet of Jasper's voice was soft. "In case you haven't noticed."

As if in agreement her stomach rumbled. She hadn't eaten anything since breakfast the day before. While she was hungry, the thought of moving in order to eat turned her off.

"Stay in bed and rest then." Edward told her. He must have been listening, she almost forgot about that. "Bella and I will go and get you something. By the time we come back the medicine should have you feeling more like yourself."

She heard the jingle of car keys and the door open and close. She mashed the pillow even harder against the side of her head. Though she knew he closed it gently, it sounded to her as if he'd slammed the door shut behind him. She groaned again.

Her family went about their business as quietly as possible. Their near silent footsteps on the carpet, the rustle of their clothes as they got dressed, even their barely whispered conversations sounded explosive inside her pounding head. No one else in the world but her would have noticed these imperceptible sounds and she inwardly cursed her acute hearing. The thunderous tick-tock of the clock beside her bed finally wore through her last nerve. In a move that she instantly regretted, she rolled over, grabbed it, and hurled it across the room. She heard it shatter against the wall. Unfortunately, her satisfaction was nullified by the painful sound the reverberated through her skull.

"I understand you're suffering," Doc scolded her lightly. "But destroying hotel property is uncalled for Sarah."

She slumped back into bed and pulled both pillows over her head. Right now, she didn't care what was called for or uncalled for, her head was in agony and she wanted nothing better than to put it, along with her sensitive ears, inside a nice quiet block of cement.

"Sarah." It was Alice. Though she tried to speak softly, her piccolo voice was like a hundred fingernails raking down a chalkboard all at once. Sarah cringed and curled into a tight ball.

She felt Alice's weight settle beside her. "I know our voices hurt you right now, I'm sorry, but I have an idea. I think that, at least in part any way, your extraordinary hearing has less to do with you ears and more to do with your mind."

"An interesting theory Alice." The doctor mused. "Do you think it's linked to her other talents?"

"I do." She agreed. "Kitten, I think you can adjust the volume of your hearing in the same way you adjust the volume of your thoughts."

"How?" she croaked. She was willing to try anything if it might help.

"I don't know." Alice answered softly. "How did you quiet your thoughts so that you dropped completely off both mine and Edward's mental radar yesterday?"

"Yours, you read thoughts too?" She found even the sound of her voice irritating.

"No, Alice sees visions of the future." Doc supplied. "Those visions however, are dependent on what an individual is thinking in the present. When your thoughts disappeared abruptly yesterday, so did Alice's vision of your future."

She didn't see that coming. What sort of visions did Alice see of her future she wondered? She thought about asking but then she suddenly remembered the ledgand of how the Cyclops ended up with only one eye. According to the story, he traded the other one to the Furriers to learn what his future would hold. In the end, the only future knowledge he'd gained was in knowing the exact time and manor of his own death.

"I pulled my thoughts inward and imagined them as small as a grain of sand." She finally explained. It seemed somewhat silly when she described it but that's how it worked.

"That's very good Sarah but, don't ever do that again with out warning me first. You scared the hell out of me." The pleasant tone in Alice's voice never faltered in spite of her obvious annoyance, "Now, you need to come up with a visualization that lets you turn down the volume of your hearing."

She thought about it for a few minuets and, oddly enough, the suggestion made since. In fact, that's how she tuned her hearing in the first place. When she wished to hear only the violins at a concert, she imagined the tuning dial of her grand-mère's antique radio and she mentally adjusted it until she found the _station _she wanted. She focused her imagination on the image of the radio, seeing it as vividly in her mind's eye as she could. There, just below the large tuning dial, was the volume control. She smiled to herself, why had she never noticed it before.

On closer inspection, she found the volume knob turned all the way up. She wrapped her mental grip around the knob and turned it down to a more comfortable setting. The relief was immediate. Though she still had a headache, the sounds of the world around her didn't explode inside her skull like Fourth of July fireworks.

She pulled the pillows away slowly and waited to see what would happen. When things remained comfortable, she tried sitting up. Her head throbbed briefly with the change of elevation, but once she was actually sitting the throbbing died away.

"How's the head?" Doc asked in the softest tone imaginable.

"The pain is still there but, with my hearing toned down, it's manageable."

By the time, Edward returned and she had finished her breakfast, the headache had receded to a low dull ache. It was more annoying than anything.

* * * *

A cold spring rain continued to fall as Doc helped her from the back seat of the limousine. The funeral mass at St Michael's Catholic Church was pack in spite of the bad weather. The community loved Aunt Olivia deeply and many of the mourners took the time to convey their personal condolences to Sarah. Even the Mayor and the President of the local School Board attended. The hardest part for her had been sitting in the front row not more than ten steps away from her aunt's casket.

The most shocking part for her however, took place before the church doors opened. Doc insisted on arriving at the church slightly early. Since she'd missed the wake this would be her first time facing the true finality of the situation. She was grateful for his foresight, the instant her hand touched the cold metal of the casket the torrential down pour began anew. The black void at the center of her soul opened its gaping maw again and threatened to devour her. If it hadn't been for the love and support of her new family, she doubted she could have endured it.

By the time the mass began, she had calmed considerably. Now, as Doc led her across the muddy ground of the cemetery, the second hard part began. Ahead of her, Jasper, Emmett, Edward, and three parishioners from the congregation carried her aunt's remains. Father Reese would now conduct the graveside portion of the service. It would be the ending of the end, and even now, that thought had the black void ready to open wide again.

Once more, they sat on the front row with the foreboding presence just a few precious feet away. She must have reacted in some subtle way because Doc took her hand in his and Esme whispered soft encouragement in her ear.

She was just about calm again when her fine hairs stood on end and her skin rippled with electricity. Not at a funeral, she thought angrily, does this man have no sense of decency at all. The lion growled within her.

She listened to the sound of approaching footsteps he was very close. That's when it dawned on her that her reaction was mild given his closeness and there was no nausea or dizziness. It wasn't Cane after all; it was just a Red Dragon.

"I'm sorry I missed the church service." the saxophone played sadly. "Something came up."

"Of course." Doc whispered.

She felt Mr. Wiseman's hand come to rest on her shoulder. "How are you holding up my dear?"

"As well as I can Mr. Wiseman," she mumbled. The frail sound of her own voice shocked her. "Thank you for coming."

Mr. Wiseman gave her shoulder a gentle squeeze before she took a seat in the row directly behind her. Father Reese began the service, his voice droned dully in her ears as it blended with the steady drum of the falling rain. It seemed to her in that moment that all of Heaven had opened its grieving heart to mourn her loss with her. Tears streamed down her face again and she wondered if they would ever stop.

* * * *

Carlisle breathed a sigh of relief as Father Reese said the final amen the closed the benediction of the graveside service. The painful formalities were finally over with and now he and the rest of the family could concentrate on helping Sarah heal. He was pleased with her; she'd handled her self very well, overall. There was still the matter of her aunt's estate to deal with but he'd already spoken to Ben about the matter. As soon as the will was through in probate, he would meat with estate's attorney on Sarah's behalf. All he required was for Sarah to sing a few papers to give Ben the legal right to represent her.

With in the next two or three days they would all return to Forks and begin building a new life with there latest addition. Already Esme had planes to renovate the downstairs guest bedroom for her as well as the downstairs bathroom in order to accommodate her special needs. She also had a notion to build a small studio off the back of the house where Sarah could work on her pottery and sculpt. She would need access to a kiln to fire her pots, his wife told him, and this gave her some reason for concern. A kiln, being essential a very hot oven, could be dangerous and she would need supervision. He wasn't concerned, as always Esme would handle things.

The boys had some sort of project involving music and sound in mind. They tried to explain it to him but unfortunately, it made very little since to him. It didn't matter really, if it made them happy and in turn made Sarah happy, he would be happy.

The girls had shopping in mind, of course. In their eyes, Sarah needed a serious fashion makeover. He saw nothing wrong with the way Sarah dressed but then again, what did he know? He only hoped they paid attention to Sarah's sensibilities and didn't try to force anything on her she found uncomfortable.

He cast a sideways glance in her direction as he led her back toward the waiting limousine. At that moment, the realization that he was becoming a father yet again finally sank in. The thought stirred a sense deep pride as well as giddiness in him. It was like that every time he added to his family. Though he had referred to her as his daughter on several occasions over the past few weeks only now, as she closed the book on the remnants of her old family, did the reality of it hit him. This frail and venerable human girl was now his sole responsibility. She was his and Esme's child and no one else's; now and forever, she would be their Sarah.

* * * *

The limo slowly pulled back it to the parking lot of St Michael's Catholic Church. Sara sat between Esme and himself in the back seat. She was silent through out the ride, only erupting into short bursts tears twice. Esme held her now and hummed a nameless melody softly in her ear.

When the vehicle stopped, he got out and came around to get the door for his wife and Sarah. He would have preferred to bundle the pair of them up in the rental car and take them straight back to the hotel but that wasn't possible. In the fine tradition of southern hospitality, the family and close friends of the deceased gather for the after pass. This event took place either at the home of a family member or a friend, or as in this case at the church hall. Several members of the Ladies Altar Society spent the better part of yesterday and this morning preparing the meal; it didn't seem fair to disappoint them.

With Esme on one elbow and Sarah on the other, they made their way across the parking lot to where Ben and the rest of his children were waiting.

"Doc, it hurts." she whispered. If she was complaining about it, he thought it must have really been bothering her.

"You leg or your head?" It really didn't matter; the events of the past few days were testing the very limits of Sarah's endurance. He couldn't wait to get her back to Forks where she could recuperate in peace.

"Both."

He sighed, "Once you've eaten something honey, ok."

He watched her nod and felt her readjust her grip on his elbow. The sooner this whole horrid nightmare was over with the better.

They were no more than a few steps from his waiting family when Sarah shuddered violently and came to a dead stop. He had a good idea what her reaction meant but he asked her anyway. "Sarah, are you alright?"

"Cane's here."

"Are you sure honey," He hated questioning her but he needed to be certain. "Perhaps your radar is sensing Ben."

"I'd know that shade of green she's got on her face anywhere." Edward growled. "It's Cane."

"He's here." She insisted.

Protectiveness and anger welled up inside Carlisle, there was an imminent threat to his family and he intended to answer that threat. This time he would not remain behind while the others hunted, this time he would lead them.

"Ben, would you be kind enough to look after Sarah while we take care of this?"

"I would be most honored." Ben moved closer and Carlisle unfolded Sarah's hand from his elbow and wrapped it around Ben's.

"I want to go with you." Her voice was a low growl and her expression was one of determination. He'd seen the look before, at the restaurant when Cane disturbed their breakfast.

"That wouldn't be wise my dear." Ben chided her gently. "Now come, their waiting for you inside."

"No!" she turned Ben's elbow loose. The determination on her face deepened. "He took my mother and my father, he took my brother and my two sisters, and he just took my aunt. I want satisfaction. . . .I want Cane!"

He watched her whole body trembled with furry as she shouted the last part. He understood her rage and he longed to give her the personal satisfaction she deserved but that was impossible. That was the hardest part of it all for him, wanting to acquiesce and knowing for her safety he couldn't. His jaw clinched twice and he took a deep breath as he steeled his nerves in preparation to hurt Sarah's feeling.

"Sarah Annaëlle Babaineaux, have you taken leave of your senses! You will be silent young lady and do as you are told." He shouted. It broke his heart to raise his voice to her and the look of utter shock on her angelic face made it even worse.

He watched as she stepped into the reassuring comfort of Ben's side. Ben wrapped his arm around Sarah's shoulder. The disapproving glare his old friend shot him was almost as painful as the look of dejection on his youngest daughter's face. That look would haunt him to the end of his days, but it was unavoidable.

"Take her inside Ben," His voice still held a hard edge, and he wished he had softened it. "We'll return as quickly as we can."


	17. Chapter 17

**Note:** I don't own Twilight!!!

Chapter 16

**Cat and Mouse**

Sarah allowed herself to be led through the doors the church hall by Ben. She was upset by the way Doc yelled at her. His angry words were like a slap to her face and they made tears sting her eyes. What had she done to make him so furious, was it too much to want a second go at Cane? She had a mental library full of excruciating noises she would greatly enjoy drilling into his brain.

Ben led her through the buffet line, asking her what she wanted on her plate. When they were done, he found her a seat at one of the tables.

"What shall I get you to drink my dear?" Ben asked after pushing her chair in.

"Ice tea." she answered him absently and then listened to the sound of his footsteps as he went to get her tea.

She picked at her plate with her fork and suddenly realized she didn't know what she was poking at. Doc and the others always gave her descriptions of what was in front of her. She sighed as she brought a random forkful of the unknown close enough for her to sniff discreetly. Glazed sweet potato, she recognized there aroma instantly, probably brought by Mrs. Hutchison, her aunt's long time next-door neighbor. Satisfied with the identification she put the fork in her mouth.

"There you are my dear, one glass of iced tea." she heard him set the glass in front of her before pulling out a chair and taking a seat.

"Thank you for babysitting."

He laughed. "Is that what you think this is?"

"Isn't it?" she asked meekly before taking another mouthful of sweet potatoes.

"Goodness no. I'm having a business lunch with a client," he informed her.

"A client?" she felt her face contort, after all she couldn't recall hiring a lawyer.

He chuckled softly; the low melody of the Saxophone was soothing. "I'm representing you in the matter of your aunt's estate."

"Forgive me but, since when?"

"Since Carlisle ask me too."

She was quiet for a time before she spoke again. "I don't think I can afford to pay you Mr. Wiseman"

"Please my dear, it's Ben," She heard him sigh. "And trust me; Carlisle's yearly retainer will more than cover your attorney's fees . . . If I were charging you that is. I'm doing this one pro bono."

"I hate to look a gift horse in the mouth," She was pleasantly surprised. "But why?"

"Well," she felt him gathering his thoughts "How would you feel if I told you I liked you . . . a lot?"

Dear God, she thought, liked by a Red Dragon, the thought made her shudder inside. What exactly did that mean anyway she wondered? Did he like her for a friend or for a hors d'oeuvre? _Stop that _she reprimanded herself; according to Doc he wouldn't harm her because she was part of the family. Sarah Babineaux was a friend not food.

Before she could respond to his question a set of footsteps trailed up to their table. They were reverent and even before he spoke, she could tell they belonged to Father Reese.

"May I join you?" the priest asked in his church mouse voice.

"Certainly Father, please have a seat." Ben answered brightly. "I'm sorry I missed the service, but the words you spoke at the cemetery were very inspirational."

Sarah could tell by the odd silence that Ben had caught Father off guard. No one ever complemented his Sunday morning services, let alone his funerals. She felt a smile twist the corners of her mouth.

There was the clatter of a plate being put on the table and the sound of a chair being drawn out. "I'm afraid we haven't been introduced." she heard father say as he settled himself at the table. "I'm Father Jonathan Reese."

"Benjamin Wiseman, I'm an attorney. I represent Dr. Cullen and his family."

What began as tension between Ben and the Father turned into a pleasant discussion about the blossoming baseball season. Father Reese was a longtime Braves fan while Ben preferred the Cubs. She listened to them go on about players and stats until an uncomfortable urge made her interrupt.

"Excuse me Father but is there someone. . . .Matronly about," She fumbled with the request as she found it slightly embarrassing. "Who wouldn't mind escorting me to the . . . Uhm, ladies room?"

"Of course Sarah." His tone immediately dismissed her embarrassment. "Mrs. Hebert." He summoned the woman with just her name. "You remember Mrs. Hebert don't you?"

Of course, she remembered, how could she forget Bobby's mom. The woman was very happy to escort her to the rest room. She left her to attend to her business and assured her she would return shortly. Even if she didn't, the church hadn't changed that much over the years. She could probably feel her way back to the hall on her own.

When she finished, she exited the restroom and called for Mrs. Hebert but the woman didn't answer. She tuned her hearing, bringing up the volume as much as she dared and scanning the stations for Mrs. Hebert. She picked up the faint sound of someone breathing not more than a dozen steps away.

"Mrs. Hebert?" she asked. The breathing pattern was heavy, almost a pant, not at all like the matronly woman who escorted her earlier, not unless she ran a marathon while Sarah was in the bathroom.

"Are you Sarah?" the voice was that of a young man. By the quality of it, she could tell he was nervous, and he positively reeked of alcohol. It was so strong she would have sworn he had bathed in a vat of cheap wine.

"I am." she answered reluctantly. "Who are you?"

He didn't answer, instead he jumped on her, managing to get behind her and force a foul smelling rag over her nose and mouth. She struggled wildly for relies, but the fumes from the rag zapped her strength and her consciousness. The last thing she was aware of was being dragged out the rear doors of the church hall. Then unconsciousness took her.

* * * *

Carlisle was starting to become very annoyed. He and his family chased Cane from one end of Sarah's hometown to the other. Every time they thought they had him, some how he would slip through their net just as they pulled it shut. Currently they had him cornered in a dilapidated old barn several miles outside of town. They had him surrounded and were moving in cautiously. He didn't want to lose Cane this time.

Carlisle gave the signal and every one rushed the barn at the same time. They entered together from multiple directions. Jasper, Alice and Rose came in through different parts of the second story just to cut that off as a means of escape while he, Esme, Emmett, Edward, and Bella rushed different entry points of the lower level. When they converged on the center of the barn, they found it empty.

"I was so sure this time." Alice mumbled. The more they hunted Cane without success, the more she doubted herself.

"Don't feel bad Alice." Edward comforted, "I distinctly heard his thoughts coming from in here."

"Yah, I know. In fact, I can still smell him." Rose added.

Jasper nodded. "I know what you mean, by the intensity of his scent; he should be standing right here."

Carlisle's gaze traveled from face to face. What could he say they were right? Even he could feel the beast's presence in the barn, and yet he wasn't there. Now he understood firsthand the frustration his children felt over the past few days as they searched for the monster.

"Were chasing a ghost Carlisle." Edward muttered in disgust.

He was about to assure his son that Cane was very real and not to get so discouraged when he noticed inspiration light Jasper's face. Whatever he was thinking made Edwards gaze snap in his direction.

"We _are_ chasing a ghost," Jasper insisted. "I don't know why I didn't think of it sooner."

"How about you enlighten the rest of us." Emmett growled

Jasper glanced at Edward, deferring the explanation to him.

"Cane's been stringing us along all this time." Edward explained. "He has more than just radar. He's a ventriloquist, able to project his presence wherever he wants. That's why he's never where we think he is."

"Sarah." Esme gasped.

* * * *

Sarah drifted on the warm dark current of unconsciousness. There was no pain here, no misery, there was nothing but the open endless sea of the void. Out of the dark ocean around her a swirling mist began to form, coalescing into the images of a forgotten memory. It was one that had been long and deeply buried and one she could have lived her entire life happily without.

She was standing in the wide archway that separated the cozy dining room of her parent's house from the much larger living room. She smiled as she watched her father, standing at the head of the table, finish saying the blessing before taking his seat. It was dinner time and her entire family sat around the table. Old pain seared her heart anew at the sight of them, Jack, her father, and Carmelita, her mother, her three sisters Elizabeth, Margaret, and Rachael, and her two brothers Jack jr. who was the oldest among them at 14 and the baby of the family, little William babbling away in his high chair.

She watched them with a mixture of gratitude for the clarity of the memory and sorrow for the pain of her loss, she was nearly in tears. Suddenly the dreamscape shifted violently, the floor beneath her feet shook and she fell to the floor as the room around her whirled as if caught up in a tornado. When it settled she was cowering in the corner of the living room with her mother and siblings. Their mother had then all gathered up like so many chicks under the wings of a brooding hen. She was protecting them from something Sarah couldn't see.

Sarah pushed her head past Elizabeth's elbow for a better view. There in the center of the living room her father stood like a mighty warrior of old with a baseball bat in his hands ready to strike. In front of him, his enemy towered over him, Goliath about to smite poor David.

She heard her father's strong voice as he told the stranger to leave and she heard the stranger's answering laugh, it rang with the ominous sound of French horns. Sarah gasp as she recognized the laugh, this was Cane on the day he slaughtered her family. The memory had been lost to her, until now. She tried to push it from her mind, but found she was a helpless spectator forced to relive that horrid day.

Suddenly Cane lunged toward her father and he swung the bat striking the monster broadside across the chest. The hickory bat exploded into a million pieces on impact and the wooden shards rained down like confetti throughout the room. Sarah never saw the shard that struck her in the head but she felt it as the pain erupted with fiery vengeance in her skull.

Sarah heard her father scream and her mother's voice soon joined his. She lay sprawled out on the hardwood floor, helpless to do anything except moan. Blood oozed from her throbbing head, her stomach rolled, and she could no longer see anything. She felt something stir deep in side her and she heard the faint roaring of a lion deep within her mind. The sound hurt at first but the roaring soon changed to a soft encouraging purr as she groped her way across the floor until her fingers brushed against the bottom of the screen door. She pushed it open and crawled to freedom.

* * * *

Awareness slowly seeped back into Sarah's mind as the awful nightmare faded. Her hands and feet were bound and she was laying on a hard damp surface. As more of her awareness returned, she could smell water and faintly hear the sound of birds over the steady roar of the outboard motor. She was moving, but not fast. She recognized the slow stately pace of the bateau as it glided along some unnamed bayou. The last awareness to return to her was her radar, the force of her reaction slammed into her all at once. She couldn't stifle her moan.

"Welcome back to the world love." The sound of French horns accosted her ears. "Sorry for the rough treatment, consider it payback. That damn whistle is still ringing in my head."

Panic gripped her, where was she and how had Cane gotten her. The memory of the drunken youth came back to her. He hadn't been a dragon, she was sure of it.

Cane chuckled. "By the look of consternation on your face love, I'd say you're wondering how it came to this. Since I couldn't go to the mountain, I had the mountain brought to Me.," he laughed this time. "I even gained a little lagniappe out of the deal, as it turned out that young man made a very satisfying snack to tide me over until the main course."

So, he wants to play games she mused. The lion inside her roared for another chance at Cane's blood. She began a search through her mental archive for the perfect sound. It had to be both annoying and painful and soon she had several candidates on her short list to try. The first one she selected was sure to get his attention. Part of her hoped he would fall right out of the bateau and become lunch for a passing alligator. Poor gator, she sighed, Cane was so mean he would most likely give the beast indigestion.

She reached for the sound of the air-horn and Cane's mind at the same time. As she tried to focuses, she found her mental grip wouldn't hold. Perhaps she hadn't done it right she thought, and tried again. The same thing happened when she tried a third time. Her focuses slipped through her mental grasp like mist. Her expression twisted in disgust.

Cane laughed again. "_Mon Cher_, you didn't honestly think I'd go handling a porcupine without putting on gloves first? I learned my lesson the first time."

"What did you do to me Freak?" The roar of the lion and her voice became one.

"Temper, temper." he scolded. "Your friend the good Doctor isn't the only one with knowledge of pharmacology. I do however have a harder time getting what I need than he does."

"What did you give me?" she demanded.

"Now Sarah love," He soothed. "I could sit here rattle off the names of the drugs I gave you but you would have no earthly idea what I was talking about, nor would you appreciate what they do. Suffice it to say, that you won't be using that interesting little gift of yours while we dance."

She was silent as she lay in the bottom of the boat. She was helpless and there was nothing in the world she hated more than being helpless. Since high school, she always made a concerted effort to be as independent as possible, to live like a normal person and not let her limitations rule her life. There were a few things she couldn't do of course, but for the most part, she considered herself capable. That sense of capability just ran head first into Cane's drug induced Great Wall.

"Where are you taking me?" she finally asked. She was resigned to her fate now; she was to be lunch for a Red Dragon.

"As I told you at the airport," His voice teased. "Somewhere familiar."

Oh well, what did it matter anyway she thought, one place was just as good as another to die. She sighed but didn't press him.

"Oh come on now love, don't give up on me." The ominous sound of the French horns softened becoming almost tender. "I look forward to our bantering, I find it very entertaining. In fact, I think I can honestly say I'm going to miss you Sarah."

"Wonderful." she grunted.

"No love, I'm serious." His voice was, in fact, serious. "In over five hundred and seventy years, I've never had a hunt that challenged me as much as this one nor have I had a quarry as spellbinding as you."

"I'll bet you say that to all your meals." she croaked dryly.

He laughed again and the dark sound of it danced across the water and echoed off the trees. "That's my Sarah."

When she managed to push her flood of self-pity aside, she asked her question again. "Where are you taking me?"

"Back to the beginning." He answered lightly. "Back to where it all started, I'm taking you home Sarah."

* * * *

She lay quietly in the bottom of the bateau listing to the sounds of the swamp. Her mind turned her present predicament over repeatedly like a cow chewing its cud. There had to be a way, a plan B, for getting out of this mess. It was simply a matter of playing on her assets and minimizing her liabilities. On the down side, her biggest weapon was useless but that fact made a strange thought occurred to her. In spite of having her thought control paralyzed, her radar trait was working very well. Her close proximity to Cane had electricity dancing in painful waves across her skin and her stomach rolled like a storm tossed sea.

The fact that her radar worked made her wonder if her ears were working. She focused her mind on the image of the antique radio, seeing it as clearly as she could. With a nervous mental sigh, she reached for the tuning knob and turned it. To her amazement, the sound of a nearby dragonfly filled her hearing to the exclusion of everything else. Spurred on by her success she turned the volume control up a few hairs, the result was that the dragonfly's wing beats were so acute she could count each one.

How interesting, she mused and the cud chewing continued. So what did that mean, had Cane's pomposity caused him to underestimate her again? Two thoughts emerged from that notion. One was that his professed knowledge of pharmacology wasn't as accurate or complete as he fooled himself into thinking. Obviously, the drugs he gave her were only partly effective. How that might work to her advantage, she didn't know yet.

The other, more hope full thought, was that given his flawed knowledge he had miscalculated the dose. That had more possibilities. If he misjudged the amount required to hold her in mental limbo, then maybe her other gifts were working because whatever he gave her was wearing off.

That thought led to another one, was it possible walk it off. If she kept testing the Great Wall, could she find a chink and bust it down? What did she have to loose in trying. She reached for the air-horn and the sound of Cane's mind again. If it was her last act, she was determined to ram the defining noise into Cane's head for all time.


	18. Chapter 18

Note: I don't own Twilight.

**Warning:**this chapter gets very very intense!!!

Chapter 17

Lion's Roar

It seemed like eternity had passed twice, before the bateau pulled alongside the little dock her father built. Not once since that horrid day had she returned to this place. She owned it now and had tried selling it but no one wanted to buy a murder house. Some of the townspeople swore the place was haunted but her parents were God-fearing people and she knew better. Their souls rested beyond Heaven's Gate not in this cursed place. In spite of her conviction, it still hurt to hear the occasional whispered stories.

She felt the boat rock as he climbed out and she heard him tie off the mooring line. The planks creaked under his weight as he walked. With one hand, he hauled her from the boat bottom and slung her over his shoulder like a sack of grain.

"Gees, can't you at least give me the dignity of letting me walk _The Green Mile_?" Anything to stall the inevitable, she thought. All she needed was a brake, and she would pounce. The angry lion roared within her. Patience, she soothed the tawny cat, just have patience.

He shifted her off his shoulder and set her on her feet. "You're right of course; being carried that way is undignified." In a lightening quick motion, he scooped her into his arms like a blushing bride. "This is much better. Now I can carry you over the threshold in a proper manner."

"I'm not your wife, freak." She would have hit him if her hands weren't tied.

"Stop being such a kill-joy Sarah." He chided. "This could be fun . . .if you'd let it be."

A new, even more disturbing thought, raced through her brain as he carried her up the front steps and onto the porch. . . .Did he plane to rape her before eating her? She redoubled her efforts to force her way through the wall.

With a single kick, the door gave way and he brought her inside. The musty air made her sneeze. No one had been in the house since the day the police locked it up tight. She was glad she couldn't see what the ravages of time had done to the place that was so alive in her childhood memories. He set her on the sofa and cloud of dust tickled her nose, she sneezed again.

"So, how does this work freak, do you shoot me in the head or maybe stab me in the heart?" Until that moment, she hadn't entertained the exact method he would use.

She felt him settle beside her on the sofa. "You really have no idea, do you?"

Even without his unusual voice, those words would have chilled her. She felt him lean in very close to her neck and take several deep breaths.

"Are you sniffing me?" She was appalled; this guy was a real freaky freak.

"Quiet Sarah." he whispered. The sofa springs groaned as he shifted closer and wrapped his arm around her. He caressed the skin below her earlobe with the tip of his nose and she could feel his icy breath trail across her warm skin.

"You could at least . . .set the mood." She felt her body betraying her as she responded to his touch.

"I would light candles for you." he whispered against her skin. "And build a fire in the fireplace, but the effort would be wasted." Then his cold tongue found the same patch of skin he had just been nuzzling.

Her mind groaned with feelings she'd never known before and heat joined the electricity that danced over her skin. She was at the point of complete surrender when the angry lion threw back his head and roared. The sound of it shattered his hold on her senses and she struggled to throw him off.

"You can't do things the easy way can you love?" A predatory growl oscillated through the French horns. "I wanted to do this slowly and make it enjoyable for you. Such a pity, well I'll enjoy this at least."

She suddenly found herself pined under his ermines weight as he pressed her against the sofa. With one rough hand, he forced her head to one side and she felt his breath on her skin below her ear again. His cold tongue only lingered there for a moment before she felt his teeth rip into the tender flesh.

She promised herself she wouldn't give him the satisfaction of screaming but she broke that promises, loudly several times. Never in her life had she known this level of pain, it consumed her. Tendril of fire spread inward from where his mouth worked against her neck even as her precious life force pulsed out. The fire wove its way through her whole body finding and filling every cell. She wondered what would killer her first his appetite or the flames.

It seemed strange to her that, in spite of her impending doom, her thinking was very clear. On a whim, she tried the Great Wall and found it full of holes and crumbling fast. Opportunity became an exhilarating force; she opened the volume of her thoughts to the mind splitting pulse setting, focused on the tinkling ivory keys, and shouted his name.

"Edward, help!"

* * * *

By shear luck, Jasper found Sarah's scent and they followed it to a public boat launch on the edge of the swamp. Tracking over water was a hit and miss affair, occasionally they would find a stream of Sarah's scent only to have it end abruptly. They were following an especially strong scent stream now and Carlisle hoped it would finally lead them to Sarah.

Trees zipped past him at what most humans would consider an alarming speed. For his part, he couldn't move fast enough. Esme ran beside him, having no trouble keeping up. Edward, Alice, and Jasper had point as each one tried to use their unique skills to pin point Sarah's location. The others fanned out to bring up the rear. Though he tried to remain hopeful, he feared that by the time they found her it would be too late.

It happened so suddenly Carlisle didn't know what to make of it. It was shocking. For no foreseeable reason Edward suddenly ran directly into a large cypress tree. The sound of the collision reverberated through the swamp and the incident left Edward sprawled on the damp earth at the base of the tree. The stately cypress faired much worse; it would forever bare the scars of its encounter with his son.

"Are you alright?" He asked as he helped his son up.

"She yelled at me!" A disconcerting look filled Edward's eyes then his expression changed and the doctor could tell he was listening to something. "I know exactly where she is." he muttered absently, as if still listening to the unheard voice.

"And we better hurry to, "Alice added solemnly. "He's bitten her."

In a flash they were all thundering behind Edward's lead hoping against hope that they would reach her in time.

* * * *

She sent her mental plea as quickly and as loudly as she could. Now she turned the lion loose on her attacker. With the volume still turned beyond full blast, she took hold of Cane's presence in her mind and rammed the sound of the air-horn directly into his brain. Instantly he fell off her and onto the floor. She listened with satisfaction to his thrashing and wailing. She stepped up the volume a little more and sent his agony into a new orbit.

Odd she thought as she continued to hold Cane thrashing on the floor. She didn't find his howls even the slightest bit distracting, and her exertion didn't tax her concentration at all. In a word, it was easy. . . Too easy.

The only thing that really bothered her now was the fire that raged within her. It had been getting steadily worse and now threatened to break her hold on Cane. Presently she had her focus split between keeping the volume loud and holding the rising tide of the fire at bay. Unfortunately, the fire was encroaching on the part of her brain she was using to hold Cane. She tried to push the fire back but the effort failed and it continued to encroach on her hold. As the flames consumed the last of her concentration, her sensitive ears heard them rush into the house. She smiled briefly before dropping to the floor in a heap.

* * * *

Carlisle charged through the open front door of the run down little cabin far more recklessly that he ordinarily would have. The rest of his family was close on his heel. They were sure this time, Edward and Alice both sensed Sarah in the house. That meant Cane was there too.

As he entered, he saw her standing by the dust covered green sofa, Cane was writhing on the floor just a few feet away. Before he could get to her side, he watched her knees buckle and she collapsed. Esme caught her before she hit the floor. His children leaped on Cane like a pack of hyenas, quickly subduing him and dragging him from the living room to the dinning room. He watched as they forced him to his knees and held him there. Carlisle would deal with the monster shortly.

He went to where Esme held Sarah cradled in her arms, and knelt beside her. There was a gaping wound on the side of her neck, but even as he examined it, it was starting to heal around the edges. His eyes lock briefly with his wife's, he didn't need to tell her, she knew. There was nothing he could do, in three days time Sarah would be a newborn.

He straightened and took a deep breath before turning his attention to Cane. The beast was still whimpering with whatever agony Sarah had inflicted on him. Carlisle grabbed the hair on top of Canes head and lifted his gaze to meat him. He wanted to be angry for Sarah's sake, for the sakes of her family and the detective and everyone he ever butchered, but suddenly he could feel only a disgusting sort of pity. In a single swift movement, he snapped Canes head off and dropped it on the floor.

His eyes met Edwards. "Take care of this please." he whispered, and then turned back to where Esme held Sarah. He lifted her gently from his wife's arms.

She moaned softly as he carried her out the front door. She would need a safe place to rest while she went through the transformation. He had just the place in mind, according to his journal; Skeeter's fish camp wasn't far. It was isolated so no one would hear her when the screaming started, and there would be no danger to the human populace while she gained control of her urges.

footnote: don't think it ends here, I'm not done yet.


	19. Chapter 19

_Note: I don't own Twilight_

_Chapter 18 _

_Metamorphosis_

_Carlisle sat in a chair beside the bed where Sarah lay. She was resting peacefully now; her gut churning agony ended an hour and a half ago when her heart finally took its last faltering beat. He was relieved as he watched the steady rise and fall of her chest; her transformation had not been a normal or an easy one. What should have lasted three days went on for five an all the while Sarah's fragile human body fought the changing force of Cane's venom with every ounce of strength it had. She had courage, his little Sarah, and though it hurt him deeply to watch her go through so much suffering, he was proud of her. _

_With Sarah's last heartbeat Carlisle finally convinced Esme to go hunting. For the past five days, she hadn't once left Sarah. She cradled the girl in her arms like an infant and hummed a hundred nameless melodies in her ear. If Sarah's agony was gut wrenching for him to watch, Esme's worry was more than heart breaking. _

_Neither of them ever intended for this to happen, but it had and some how he couldn't honestly say he regretted it. He would have preferred it, for her sake, that Cane was not her genesis. Knowing her sensitive nature, that was going to be a very difficult thing for her to come to terms with. If there were some way he could replace Cane's venom with his own, he would do it gladly. _

_In truth, he would have been satisfied to be Sarah's custodian through the course of her natural human life span but the thought of one day having to say good-by to her pained him. That eventuality was nothing more to him now that a passing nightmare._

_Her soft moan drew him from his thoughts and he moved to sit on her bedside. "Easy Sarah, your safe now."_

_He watched her settle back into her pillow and relax only to become anxious again almost instantly. _

"_Cane." The word stumbled from her mouth in a frightened gasp._

"_Its ok honey, he'll never hurt you again." He wanted to tell her Cane was dead, but he wasn't sure she was ready to hear that just yet. That would come later, right now there were other, more pressing, topics to deal with. "How do you feel?"_

_He watched her face; she was obviously taking a mental inventory. This was going to be interesting. He heard footsteps and looked to the bedroom door, Jasper stood in the doorway. It was a precaution, he knew and he hoped it was unnecessary. _

"_I feel strange," her face contorted with confusion. Jasper tensed and took two steps forward. "I feel different. What did that freak do to me. . . .my God, he had rabies or something, didn't he!"_

_In spite of not wanting to, Carlisle laughed. "No Sarah, he didn't have rabies, or any other communicable disease. You're fine." _

_He watched her settle down and become calm once more. "Then why do I feel so odd. I know he bit Me." her face contorted as another realization played through her mind. "A dragon's mouth must be full of bacteria like a dog's mouth; did he give me an infection?"_

"_Well," Carlisle sighed, that was going to be the best jumping off point the would likely get. "In a manor of speaking, yes. . . .and no." _

_When she didn't respond he took a breath and began the delicate process. "The other night I asked you if you knew what allegories were, you answered 'it's like a parable right'. That is not quite right but I let that answer slid because it was unimportant at the time. Specifically, a parable illustrates a moral point, like the story of the Good Samaritan. An allegory, on the other hand, is a story that represents the truth in a symbolic manor. If I described the Supper Bowl as if it were the Battle of Agincourt and the two teams involved as the French and the English that would be an allegory." _

"_I kind of figured you weren't really dragons," She admitted. "But it was better than not knowing what to think."_

"_Of course, that's understandable." He paused long enough to glance at Jasper. "But you see Sarah, when Cane bit you, he changed you. He made you into what we are." _

"_Doc, I'm still confused."_

_He took her hand in his; it felt odd not to notice her human warmth any more. "I know sweetheart, I've given this explanation four times before in my life. You'd think it would be easier by the fifth time."_

"_Do you want me to do it?" Jasper asked softly. Carlisle noticed he had moved to the foot of the bed._

"_No. Sarah is my daughter and she deserves to hear the truth from her father." He turned his attention back to Sarah. "Now honey, you may find this difficult to hear but you mustn't be afraid. . . ."_

"_Carlisle." Jasper interrupted. "I think you've gone muddle headed in your old age."_

"_Excuse me." Carlisle turned to him; he was more than a little annoyed. This was hard enough without rude interruptions. "In case you haven't noticed I'm a bit busy."_

"_Of course," Jasper's expression was apologetic as he took a seat on the other side of the narrow bed. "It's just that you and Sarah have been chatting for sever minuets now and I was wondering if you happened to notice her eyes."_

_The question caught him off guard and he turned his attention back to Sarah's face and her eyes. He hadn't paid them any attention until now, what he saw shocked him. _

"_Oh my." he whispered involuntarily._

"_What?" her voice was panicked. "what's wrong with my eyes?"_

"_Something must have gone wrong during the transformation." He muttered his thoughts aloud. "This is highly irregular."_

"_What?" She demanded._

"_Kitten," Jasper addressed her in his most brotherly tone. "What do you think of my new shirt, do you like this color on me?"_

_Carlisle watched an expression of hurt cloud her face. _

"_You know my world is a sea of black velvet, why are you teasing me?"_

"_He wasn't teasing you Sarah, he was testing you." Why she couldn't catch a break, just once, he thought angrily. "There's nothing wrong with your eyes honey."_

_It was a lie of course, her eyes should be the bright crimson of a newborn instead they were her original rich hazel. He wondered what else might have gone wrong._

"_Look, I'm really confused, I feel strange, and I must be coming down with a cold because my throat burns." She had a pleading look on her face that made Carlisle curse Cane's dead body. "Would someone please tell me what's going on?"_

_The small room was silent now as the last word of her plea died away. The time for bedtime stories and allegories was at an end, it was now time for the difficult truth. No matter what her reaction might be, holding her in suspense wasn't fair._

"_Sarah," he began gently, "We're not dragon's honey, we're. . . .Vampires. When Cane bit you his venom entered your blood, you've spent the past five days undergoing the change. Your one of us now." _

_The room was plunged into silence again as they waited for her response. For the first time since he met her, Carlisle found her expression completely unreadable. He couldn't tell if she was angry, in shock, or scared not a single, emotion played across her features. _

"_Honey, are you alright?" _

"_I'm a va. . . .a vam. . . .a vampire?" Her expression was something between __'what did you say' _and _'you've got to be kidding._' "Doc, is this another allegory?"

"No Sarah, it's the absolute truth." 

She went quiet again as she digested what he told her. Overall, she was handling things very well. She also seemed to have exceptionally good control for a young one. Only Bella had ever exhibited this level of calmness as a newborn.

"I don't want to be like Cane." a low growl rang through her words and Jasper tensed. "I don't want to hurt anyone."

"There's no reason that you should." he told her calmly. "If I might revisit the dragon story for a moment, do you remember my reference to Red's and Golden's?"

Sarah nodded.

"My family and I don't live the traditional life style of our kind, we don't hunt humans. We live off the blood of animals." He watched her face, gauging her reaction. "As I said in the story, it's a choice. I won't lie and say it's easy, but it is doable."

He watched relief and then, of all things a smile light her face. "I don't know anything about being a vampire."

Carlisle found him self laughing again, Sarah had a way of making him do that. "Don't worry honey, you have Esme and I and six siblings to teach you. I think between the eight of us, you'll get an outstanding education." 

* * * *

Once she had the hang of moving around the cabin on her newly enhanced limbs, Carlisle and Jasper took her outside. They explained that her transformation had been an unusual and difficult one, lasting longer than it should have. In addition to making her a vampire, Cane's venom healed both her leg and the wound he inflicted on her neck. Theoretically, according to Doc, it should have healed her eyes too but something had gone amiss. It was an abnormally he told her and one he intended to thoroughly investigate.

She stood on the front porch of Skeeter's cabin and opened her hearing. The sound quality was astounding, it was like the difference between listening to music on an old cassette tape verses a CD. Everything was more intense and clear. She reached for the tuning dial in her mind and surfed the _stations_; there were considerably more of them than before. She couldn't wait to go to a concert and listen to her favorite music this way. She settled the dial on a distant murmuring and turned the volume up until she could make it out. Voices rang clear as day in her ears.

"_Defiantly a set fire Chief, most likely vagrants." _a male voice spoke.

"_Oh well, I wish I could say it was a shame but the house should have been demolished years ago. I only feel sorry for the Babineaux girl, she's lost so much already," _the other voice answered obviously, it was the Chief.

"_Maybe she has insurance, and then she'll get something out of it. Otherwise the house is a total loss." _the first voice replied.

"That freak set my parents house on fire!" the lion growled with in her.

"Calm down Sarah," Carlisle took her by the hand and led her off the porch. "How did you know about the fire anyway, I didn't tell you?"

"I just hear the Fire Chief and one of his men talking about it." She still held their on going conversation at the edge of her mind as she focused on the doctor.

"You heard this conversation?" there was shock in the beautiful bells of his voice.

"I'm still listening to it. The Chief want's to swing be _The Pit Stop _on the way back to the station and pick up bar-ba-que for lunch." The mention of lunch made the burning in her throat worse. According to Doc, it would never go away and it represented her thirst. She heard Jasper whistle softly.

"Sarah your parents house in nearly nine miles from here." Astonishment rang in his voice. "The average limit of a vampire's hearing is roughly three miles."

"I wonder what the limit of her range is." Jasper asked absently.

"I don't know." Doc grumped. "But as soon as we're back in Forks, I have every intention of finding out."

They led her away from the porch and stopped after fifteen paces. She felt Doc wrap something around her waist. "What are you doing?"

"We're going to take you hunting; I don't want you to get lost as we run."

The word run made her shudder. "Do we have to run?"

Doc chuckled "It'll be fine Sarah. Now, we'll start slowly. I want you to pay attention to my footfalls, try to stay directly behind me and change directions as I do. We'll gradually pick up speed as you become comfortable."

She was defiantly having misgivings about the whole affair. "Doc I'm not sure I like this."

"If you don't like this." Jasper teased. "Wait until he has you climbing trees." 

"Climbing trees!" The thought of stairs made her tremble; he wanted her to climb trees.

They both laughed together; undoubtedly, _Shock Sarah _was the new game of the day. "That's not funny."

"Come on." Laughter still resonated through the bells of his voice. "The sooner you have your first successful hunt, the better you'll feel."

* * * * 

They started out at what passed for a light jog among vampires and slowly increased in pace. Sarah kept her hearing tuned on the doctor's footfalls, trying to follow them exactly. She had her focus split between keeping up with him and the way things around her sounded as she approached and then whizzed by them. It wasn't quite echolocation, but it came close. She listened to the air currents that she and Doc created as they ran, noting to the way the disturbed air interacted with nearby objects. Strangely enough, the way the eddies and vortices sounded created brief splashes of light on her sea of black velvet. 

Doc shifted gears ahead of her forcing her to lengthen her own stride. She wasn't sure how fast they were going, but she found it exhilarating. This was really flying. Doc altered course and she instantly followed. Maybe this would work after all. 

He picked up speed again, just how many gears did he have, she wondered. He veered sharply to the right at the same time he stepped on the gas and, because she allowed herself the momentary distraction, Sarah missed the course change. Her body met the trunk of the hognut tree with the force of a speeding semi. Stars erupted in the black velvet of her vision and she fell backwards to the ground.

"Sarah." Doc and Jasper were beside her in a flash.

"I'm ok, I think." she felt their hands hauling her to her feet.

"What happened?" Jasper asked. "You were doing very well, and then all of a sudden you lost it."

"I got distracted." She admitted shyly.

"By what?" It was Doc's turn to question.

"Internal dialogue."

She heard the doctor sigh loudly. "It's imperative that you pay attention Sarah."

"Cut her a little slack Carlisle," There was a mixture of amusement and pride in Jasper's voice; "She's actually doing a pretty amazing job, considering she's only a few hours old." 

"Indeed." Doc agreed. "Well I think we've gone far enough, Sarah I want you to tune your ears and see what animals you pick up, deer will be large and have a faster heart beat the a human."

She closed her blind eyes and opened her senses. The first thing she noticed was a wonderful light fragrance that reminded her of warm spring afternoons. She couldn't help her smile.

"That was fast, what do you sense?" Doc asked. "And please tell me it's not nine miles away."

"Honeysuckle." She answered wistfully.

"We're not looking for flowers Sarah," Doc scolded, she could tell he wasn't angry. "Now concentrate."

The scent of the Honeysuckle made her remember that it grew all along the embankment of the abandoned railroad spur. If they were where she guessed they were, then they weren't far from the trestles. She tuned her ears and bumped up the volume. The first thing she heard were the three heart beats, then she picked up their breathing, and then she heard a sound that was like a bristle brush being rubbed against a wrought iron gate. The last sound made her laugh when she realized what it was, one of the deer was scratching itself against a trestles piling.

"Poor thing, he has an itch," she chuckled. "A really bad one." 

"How far?" Jasper asked.

"Have we crossed a wooden footbridge over a marsh yet?"

"No."

"Well once we do," She directed. "It's about a half mile to the train trestles. There are three of them there, they came to drink and forage on the blackberry bramble." 

"How do you know their eat blackberry bramble," Doc's voice showed obvious signs of disbelief. "Don't tell me you can hear that too."

"No." She laughed. "Vincent and Skeeter used to take me there. There's a channel under the trestles where you can catch monster catfish, and we would always pick berries. Deer love to eat the young leaves off the bramble"

It was Jasper's turn to laugh and it was a triumphant sound. "I told you she didn't need that rope, these are Sarah's woods and she knows them better than anyone." He patted her back affectionately. "Come on Kitten, let's get you a deer."

* * * *

They were crouched in the brush down wind of their quarry. Doc whispered softly in her ear, describing the lay of the land for her. Beyond their hiding spot, it was flat and open. There were a few tree stumps and patches of knee-high scrub grass but little other cover. Jasper felt the stalk and pounce approach of a lion would be better for her than the run down and tackle method of a cheetah. Unfortunately, the terrain wasn't in her favor.

"You'll just have to try your best." Doc encouraged her. 

"Can I experiment?" she asked.

"You have something in mind?" he asked, his voice sounded intrigued.

She nodded. All the talk of animals and there hunting methods made her think of one more. Old man snapping turtle was a venerated inhabitant of the swamp. His hunting method had nothing to do with stalking, or running, or pouncing. Somehow, if she could get it to work, it seemed more her speed.

She slipped a little ways away from her companions, finding a nice hiding spot behind a fallen tree. There were three deer, a buck and two does. Even though it was spring and the rut was months off, she was guessing that the old boy would get jealous if another male came sniffing around. She concentrated on finding the buck's mind. It was a bit difficult, as animal minds didn't work like human ones and she didn't have a musical thought marker to go by. With effort, though she found him.

She searched her mental library until she found what she wanted. Her grand-père often took her into the woods, teaching her the animal sounds. She would never forget the challenge call of the rutting stag. She held the sound in her mental grasp while she reached for the buck's mind, then pushed the call into his head and waited. The buck's response was instant; his heart rate increased and breathing became heavy. He trumpeted in response. Sarah broadcast the challenge again. She heard his hooves as he moved through the tall grass toward where she was hiding. She egged him on a little more; he would have to be almost on top of her before she could jump.

As she listened to him trumpet, again, she felt her mouth begin to water and the thirst in her throat burned like fire. His scent was driving her insane, and it was all she could do to keep control of her senses and wait for the right moment. The lion roared within her but she quieted him. 

The buck was on the verge of going crazy from the perceived threat of a rouge male. She pushed the call into his mind again and then listened as he charged in her direction. She tuned her ears to his hoof beats and coiled in readiness to spring. As he jumped the fallen log she leapt up to intercept him, catching him in mid air and landing with him pined under her weight. Nature and her thirst took over at that point and her mouth found the pulsing vessel in the buck's neck.

* * * * 

Carlisle wasn't sure just what Sarah was up to when she made her way to the fallen log and crouched down behind it. She seemed to be doing nothing until he noticed the agitation in the buck. Whatever hunting technique she had in mind was like nothing he'd ever seen before. 

He watched as the buck moved a few feet away from the does and called out a challenge. Nothing answered him, but the buck became even more aggravated. It pawed the ground, tossed its head and snorted. When the beast could take the irritation no more he charged in the direction of the fallen log.

It happened so quickly Carlisle almost missed it. The buck ran up on the log, lifting its front legs off the ground and exploding into the air with the power of its hindquarters. As he cleared the log, Sarah jumped straight up and caught the animal in her arms just behind the shoulders. They fell to the ground together and tumbled several feet but Sarah didn't turn her prize loose. When the ball of deer and girl stopped moving, he watched with satisfaction as Sarah sank her teeth into the animal's neck and began to feed. 


	20. Chapter 20

Note: Twilight doesn't belong to me.

Chapter 19

In the Jungle the Mighty Jungle!

"You should have seen her Esme!" Jasper exclaimed. "It was the most beautiful thing I've ever watched, the way she jumped up and caught the buck in mid-air like that was pure poetry in motion."

Carlisle watched his wife's smile broaden to a grin. Sarah sat on the sofa next to her cuddled against her side. Esme was relieved when she return from her own hunt to find her newest child out of bed. Jasper's animated account of Sarah's first hunt had her completely spellbound.

It truly was quite amazing. For his part, he was expecting her to have more difficulty. In fact, he and Jasper had discussed the possibility of subduing her meal for her but Sarah proved her ability and then some. He was relieved of course, but he intended to set a few rules anyway. Primarily, Sarah was never to go hunting alone. For the time being, Carlisle and one other family member would accompany her until he had the opportunity to teach each one of them how to handle her.

"Kitten, how did you know the deer would charge like that?" Edward asked.

"Because I provoked him." She answered.

"What do you mean?" Esme looked down at her Kitten in disbelief.

"I filled his head with the sound of a rutting stag." There was a look of mischief on her face. "I thought it might cheese him off enough to make him charge. The rest was just a matter of waiting."

Up until now, the doctor assumed the actions of the buck were coincidental this news was intriguing. He knew she could project her thoughts. That was how she got away from Cane at the mall. He assumed that her gift was limited to vampire minds, it hadn't occurred to him she might be able to do this with humans and he never even consider animals.

"I got the idea from the way the Alligator Snapping Turtle hunts." She went on still looking impish. "Old man turtle has a built in fishing lure on his tongue. He sits on the river bottom with his mouth open wiggling it until an unsuspecting fish comes along. Then . . . _Bam_. . .he snaps his mouth shut on his prize."

"That's very creative Sarah." Carlisle admitted with pleasure. "I would never have thought of that. But, how did you know you could project into the mind of a deer?"

"I didn't at first, that's why I asked if I could experiment." she paused and embarrassment played across her face. "Did I do something wrong?"

"Heavens no." Esme answered, pulling her into a hug and kissing the top of her head. "We all have our own unique _style_, your's is just more unique that most."

"It's true, on her first hunt Bella fell out of a tree with a cougar in her arms." Edward laughed. "I don't know who was more surprised, her or the cougar."

The room erupted into laughter.

Though her style was more unusual than most, at least she could make her own kills. When he realized her sight hadn't returned that had been his primary concern. Though he was determined to teach her to be independent, he was also determined to take care of her. If things had gone the other way, he would have gladly hauled home a live deer for her every day from now until the end of eternity.

* * * *

She sat in the rocking chair on the front porch of Skeeter's cabin listening to the night. It seemed odd to her not to be asleep at almost three in the morning. It was a bit of a shock to learn she would never sleep again. Just what, she wondered, did one do with endless hours of wakefulness? Doc had his job at the hospital to occupy a chunk of his day. Edward had his music and both he and Bella had collage. What was she going to do to keep the endless hours from driving her insane?

"Stop worrying." She heard Edward call from inside the house. "You'll get used to it, besides Esme has plans to build a. . . ."

"Edward!" Esme interrupted. "That's supposed to be a surprise."

She only smiled as she went back to listening to the night. Her newly enhanced hearing was incredible. The softest whisper, the gentlest stirring of air through the tree was like a clearly spoken word to her. She reached for the tuning knob and played with the stations. In the tall grass near the edge of the woods, thousands of crickets chirped in a harmonious chorus. She could make out each individual insect.

Somewhere in the shadows of the cypress trees, a barn owl soared on silent wings. She heard him change direction and go into a dive then she picked up the sound of the heartbeat he was hunting. The mouse shrieked once as the owls talons grabbed him in the grip of death.

Another set of hunting wings drew her and she readjusted her focus. This night hunter was stalking a moth as it fluttered on the night breeze. The bat let out its high pitch squeak to locate his pray and instantly zoomed in. A few moments later, there was the sound of satisfied munching.

A chattering that sounded remarkably like laughter caught her attention next. She tuned the knob and found them down by the waters edge, their paws made squishing sounds as they walked through the sticky gumbo mud. A family of raccoons was out looking for fresh water clams along the bank. She giggled as she listened to their antics. At that moment, a breeze stirred the air and splashes of light danced across her black velvet vision. The raccoon family flared against the velvet in a brief illumination made up of thousands of pinpoints of golden light.

She gasped with wonder at the brief vision of golden brilliance. The light stirring of the air and the minute disturbances in the air currents caused as the breeze traveled over the raccoons' bodies created the sudden flash. Excitement filled her to bursting as she waited for the next breeze. She didn't have to wait long. This time she tuned her ears to a nearby cypress tree. The points of golden brilliance illuminated the stately tree against the black velvet back drop making it appear as if it were on fire. Unable to contain her excitement she let out an involuntary squeal.

The screen door opened and closed, "Sarah, are you alright?"

Doc's voice rang in her ears. She held her breath and waited for the next breeze. When it stirred, the doctor's face flared against the velvet. Her first glimpse of him was shocking; he had the face of an Olympian. Zeus had come down off his mighty mountain to dwell among men.

"My God, you're so handsome." the words fell from her mouth before she could stop them.

"Sarah." He was beside her now and she could tell he was staring. "Honey, can you . . . _see_?"

Before she could answer, the screen door opened again and the breeze stirred. Another illuminated face flashed across the black velvet, if the doctor was Zeus surely this had to be Apollo.

"It's the wind." Edward supplied for her. "She's using the differences in the way the air currents sound as they move over surfaces to create images. Only I don't think she's controlling it at this point."

"Is this true honey?" The bells in his voice were hopeful.

"I guess that's how it works." She said shyly. This was so new to her that she had no real idea how it worked. "Every time the wind blows, a flash of illuminated image fills the black velvet."

She found herself hauled to her feet and wrapped in her father's exuberant hug.

"This is wonderful." He told her as he finally released her. "Who do you want to see next honey?"

"Esme." She answered with out hesitation; she hoped the others wouldn't slight her for it.

The screen door opened and closed and Sarah waited for the breeze. When it stirred again a striking female image in blazing brilliance filled her blackened world. She was the goddess of the home and hearth brought to life by a million tiny specks of light. Esme was every bit the Hestia to the doctor's Zeus. Her hand went to her mouth as she stifled a gasp. As the image faded, she found herself enveloped in Esme's embrace.

One by one, each of them stepped out onto the porch and as the breeze stirred, she saw them. It was like meeting her whole family for the first time all over again. She did her best to burn each blazing image into her mind so she would never forget it. There was a part of her that worried this was only a fleeting miracle, even as she realized it was yet another a new gift. For once, she wished for the tears that wouldn't come.

* * * *

They were standing at the edge of the tree line near the public boat launch waiting for Doc to arrive with the rental car. While the rest of the family returned home by plane, she, Doc, and Esme would be taking the long way home by car. When she heard two vehicles pull into the lot and she tensed.

"It's ok Kitten." Esme soothed. "It's only Ben."

As soon as he stepped out of his vehicle, she sensed Ben's presence as waves of electric current danced over her skin. As she listened to the sound of their approach, an arrant gust of wind illuminated Ben's features against the black velvet. Did they all look like Greek gods she wondered, and the name Dionysus instantly came to mind. She was very glad, at that moment that Edward was at the airport with the rest of the family.

"Ah, my dearest Sarah." The sound of saxophones greeted her. "How are you my child?"

He took her hand in his and she felt his breath on the back of her hand as he kissed it. The sensation made her insides flutter.

"Fine, thank you." she finally managed to answer.

"That's a relief. Carlisle told me you transformation was a difficult one. You had us all very worried." She heard the sound of rustling papers. "I have some documents for you to sign before you leave my dear. This will only take a few moments."

Ben laid the papers out on the hood of the car.

Sarah made her mark where Doc placed her hand. "Right here honey, just a X will do."

Doc and Esme signed as witnesses.

"Is this to do with my aunt's estate?" she asked as she listened to him packing up the papers.

"Yes, and also the matter of the estate of Skeeter Landry." There was a smile in his saxophone voice. "It seems your friend left you a considerable fortune my dear."

"Uhm, Ben. Aren't you supposed to get those notarized?" Doc asked lightly. "I'm no lawyer but shouldn't we have singed them in the notary's presence."

Ben dismissed him with a laugh. "Since when do you worry about such things old friend? I circumvented proper channels to make your legal troubles disappear did I not? A notary's signature and seal is a trifling matter in comparison."

"You're a shyster." the words fell from Sarah's mouth before she could stop them. She heard Esme and Doc giggling.

"My dearest Sarah, that is a very ugly word and I should hope never to hear you use it again." His reprimand was mocking, and she could almost hear the laughter in his voice. "I am an honest and honorable servant of the court."

They said their good by's to Ben as he got into his car. He promised to come for a visit once he had all Sarah's legal matters settled. For some odd reason she was already looking forward with great expectation to that visit.

A short time later, they were on the road themselves. The quiet country back rode soon gave way to the busy interstate. Doc was driving and Esme sat next to him in the front seat. Sarah had the back seat all to her self. Doc turned the stereo on and the oldies station filled the car with the sound of _The Lion Sleeps Tonight _by The Tokens. Esme and Doc started singing along and Sarah found herself laughing uncontrollably.

"What's so funny?" Doc asked when the song finished. "I always liked that one."

"Nothing, It's just that," memories that seemed an eternity old flooded her mind. "That song was on the radio the time Skeeter let me drive Carmen, his 1969 Ford Mustang. _That _was fun!"

"He let you drive," The Bird's Theme held more than a hint of concern. "Was he insane?"

She was laughing again. "No, it wasn't like that. He pushed the seat all the way back and I sat in his lap. He controlled the gas and brake he just let me steer. We went very slowly, like five miles an hour or something."

"Still," Doc chimed in. "that was foolhardy. Carmen is listed as part of the estate he left to you in his will but. . . .you won't be driving her."

Sarah giggled again she wasn't stupid. "I know Doc, but can I keep her anyway. She was Skeeter's baby and I can't stomach the idea some idiot wrapping her around a tree."

"I suppose it wouldn't hurt, if it makes you happy." He agreed.

Harry Belafonte and _The Banana Boat Song _came from the radio. Her grandfather loved Belafonte and played his albums regularly, especially when he was drunk. He wore _Angelina _and _Coconut Woman _out.

"Turn this one up," She insisted. "The Day-O part is my favorite."

They sang oldies karaoke for hours as the miles rolled away toward home.

Footnote:Yes I know, Hera was the wife of Zeus. Unfortunately, Hera's personality traits included being vengeful and full of spite. This didn't match with Esme's personality very well so I took liberties. Sorry if it offends.


	21. Chapter 21

End of Story Notes:

_They sang oldies karaoke for hours as the miles rolled away toward home._

I didn't realize as I wrote that last line that it was the end of _**Part 1 **_of Sarah's story. This fact became evident to me as I tried to write what would have been Chapter 20. Sometimes it's like that for me when my mind changes gears, it happens in a blinding flash.

I would like to take this opportunity to thank all my fateful readers. Your comments and encouragements have meant more to me than I could ever hope to express. I hope you will continue to read _**Part 2 **_as I take Sarah deeper into her brave new world. She has a lot to learn and plenty of new mischief to get into.

My deepest thanks and Love,

Blueroan

_**P.S. **_Look for the first two chapters of _Part 2_ in the next day or two. I promises not to keep you waiting too long.


End file.
